


Lament for a Daemon's Soul

by thelastpen



Category: Glee, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Monsters, Shapeshifting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 69,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastpen/pseuds/thelastpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel is a member of an immortal altered race of humans that call themselves the Vanpyr and live in secret alongside normal humans. Murdered 300 years earlier, her outrage over her death gave her the strength of will to step Beyond the Veil and join the ranks of the altered humans known as the Vanpyr as a daemon. Since then she has been hiding the truth of her existence and fighting to control the Beast within her. So far so good, until she enrolls as a student at William McKinley High in Lima, Ohio as the "daughter" of her two gay dads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> No, I don't mean demon or vampire. The terms used are not typos but part of the original universe that I created which I fused Glee with to create this universe.
> 
> For a prompt at livejournal's rq_meme. (http://rq-meme.livejournal.com/1754.html?thread=137946#t137946)

**Prologue**

She was born 300 years ago as a knife plunged through her heart.

Yes, it was a dramatic way of putting it, but she felt entitled. After all, shed _died_. Or, well, at least her _human_ self had died. But more than that, shed been _murdered_. And then _woke back up_. It was a pretty impressive feat, if she did say so herself. And she did.

Besides, shed had three hundred _years_ to establish the Berry line as being one of a dramatic turn. It fit into the role she was playing. This starry eyed ingnue with visions of treading the boards of Broadway was the seventh generation of a long line of dramatic men and women and she intended to make the most of it.

She pushed open the front doors of William McKinley High School with a bright smile, confidence showing through every fiber of her being. She was the best. She was a _star_.

About fifteen minutes later she was covered cherry flavored ice, her sweater (a gift from her son, no - her _father_ , she had to remember that) was _ruined_ , and the smile was gone as she fought to suppress the rage that bubbled up from deep within. WMHS had welcomed her in its own unique fashion, courtesy of a young blonde girl in a red, white and black uniform with a sad expression of regret on her face and an empty cup in her hand, congratulatory older girls in similar uniforms behind her.

Three hundred years ago, shed been brutally murdered. Since then she had borne witness to countless travesties, felt pain in a myriad of forms, and even dealt it as the need arose. Now, on the first day of her freshman year of high school, she was suddenly struck with the thought that maybe shed been wrong. Maybe there _were_ things that hurt worse than being viciously and repeatedly stabbed until your body surrendered to death. She could _show_ them those things, the dark sensation growing in the pit of her stomach argued.

She stopped that thought in its tracks and carefully cleared the slush from around her eyes, the splatter of it hitting the group as she shook it from her hands loud in her ears even over the laughter of the student body. Then, with all the quiet dignity she could muster, she stalked off in the direction of the nearest restroom. The middle of a high school hallway was not the place to break down.

Things were _not_ going to plan and Rachel Berry was _not_ pleased.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because some folks had trouble grasping that word choices are deliberate, a brief explanation. Yes, "daemon" and "Vanpyr" are the words that I meant to use. No, I really didn't and don't mean "demon" or "vampire". The Daemon are not demons. The Vanpyr are not vampires. Yes, they share some similarities. They are, however, not the same concept. Daemon are not inherently evil. Many are neutral and some are positively benevolent. And Vanpyr are all supernatural beings from gods to haints and everything in between. Yes, there are classic vamps in there, but they are not even beginning to scratch on the entirety.

**Chapter One**

She stared at the hand clutching the white porcelain of the skin until the claws began to retract, reabsorbing into her body. It hurt. It always did. The bones hated reshaping themselves down to their weaker human forms and they screamed their protest through her nerves. Even with years of experience, the pain never lessened, never got easier to bear. But she didn't give any outward signs of the pain. Three hundred years of experience did give _some_ benefits.

Once her hands were back to normal, she turned on the water and turned her attention to the mirror, taking in the red tinted face reflected back at her. Most of the ice had melted, but the corn syrup and food coloring mix left a sticky film in its place. With a soft sigh, she retrieved a paper towel, dampened it and started trying to remove the worst of the mess. There wasn't likely to be any hope for her clothing unless the dry cleaners had some miracle device to remove dried in stains of this nature.

She heard the squeak of the door opening behind her, the light thump of it closing again, and the soft, hesitant tread of white cross-trainers on the tiles over the rushing of water into the sink. The faint scent of a light perfume, some sort of flower and perhaps vanilla, brushed her nose past the cloying scent of the slushie still clinging to her skin. She closed her eyes and rested her hands, thankfully both still human, on the edge of the sink.

"What do you want?" Her voice was soft, tinged with reluctance and a hint of long suffering. She didn't look up at the blonde cheerleader frozen in mid-step across the restroom.

"I - ah," the other girls voice was almost equally soft, but there was regret hiding in those soft tones and apology, "I wanted to... to apologize. It was stupid, but the other girls - and I just wanted to be on the team and..." Her voice trailed off. She wasn't even sure why she was in the restroom, let alone what she wanted to say.

Rachel finally opened her eyes and turned to face the girl, taking in the almost delicate features and sorrowful hazel eyes, the hands wringing themselves anxiously together. For a long moment, there was silence the two girls just gazing at each other across the expanse of white tiles, only the splash of water still pouring from the faucet into the sink providing a soundtrack to the moment. Then Rachel turned away, her expression never changing from the blank gaze she had directed to the cheerleader, and picked up the towel again, resuming her efforts to clean off the sticky syrup.

The squeak of sneaker making a quick step on tile was loud. "Here, let me-"

Rachel jerked away from the slender, long-fingered hand reaching for the wrist of the hand holding the wet towel. The blonde froze mid-reach, wondering if shed imagined the low growl. Rachel's brown eyes turned to her again.

"Why?"

The word was short and harsh with lack of emotion. The other girl didn't get what the attitude was about. She was trying to _apologize_ , didn't the new kid understand that?

"I _said_ I was sorry, okay?" She couldn't help the acidic bite to her words, no one had ever thrown an attempt at an apology in her face before. "I just wanted to _help_. What the hell is your _problem_ anyway?"

Rachel clenched her eyes shut, not willing to risk riling up the Beast again so quick on the heels of her last battle. She flicked the wet towel into the sink, not caring that her sweater was splashed, it was ruined anyway. She turned, facing the taller girl for the first time since shed entered.

"I didn't ask for your help. Just like I didn't ask for your drink to be thrown in my face. Now, if you'll excuse me?" With that she stepped around the frozen cheerleader and made her way out of the restroom with her head held high.

The door swung shut behind her as the cheerleader finally manage to shake herself free of her confusion and turn to look over her shoulder at the departing brunette. Deep within herself she felt the slow rise of ire. She couldn't _believe_ the audacity of that... that _dwarf_. Her upper lip curled slightly in a curious mixture of aggravation and frustration as she started plotting ways to get back at the smaller girl.

Shed felt bad about what the older girls on the squad had made her do. She had just been trying to _help_ , to apologize and make up for what shed done. Nobody, but _nobody_ , was allowed to walk out on her when _Quinn Fabray_ was trying to apologize.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is enjoying this so far!

**Chapter Two**

To say that the next few weeks were hectic would be an understatement. The slushies to the face became so frequent that Rachel had taken to dragging a small rolling suitcase to school every day with spare changes of clothing. After the first confrontation in the restroom, there had been four more, always following a slushie facial, as she soon learned they were called, though they were no longer being delivered by the blonde cheerleader. None had ended in a manner the blonde considered satisfactory enough to call off the attacks.

Rachel was slowly learning to become indifferent to the slushie facials, though the other girls continued attempt to make her accept an apology were beginning to get annoying. It was the _names_ that were starting to get the better of her. It was strange that the childish insults were digging so deep. It wasn't as though she didn't have plenty of experience handling the high school mentality of put downs, but these hurt more than she liked to admit, almost as if each one was directed especially for the ears of the Beast within her. It was getting difficult to restrain its anger.

Perhaps it was the source that was confusing her. The blonde cheerleader, whose name, shed learned thanks to a shared Spanish course, was Quinn Fabray, who kept insisting on trying to apologize for the first incident was the most frequent hurler of abuse. The dwarf comments she understood, she knew she wasn't very tall, especially not compared to the cheerleader, but RuPaul? What did she have to do with a statuesque, black, drag queen? It was all very confusing.

And confusion made it easier for the Beast to win its way free of the mental chains with which she bound it. Which lead to her running to the privacy of bathroom to try and recage him before the transformation could occur. Which, almost inevitably as shed been standing _right there_ watching with that smug grin on her face, lead to yet another confrontation in a restroom between the two girls.

* * *

The restroom door crashed open and the sound of cross-trainer meeting tile was firm, nothing like the hesitant squeaks of their first encounter, the wafting hint of a flower, Rachel had finally recognized it as jasmine, and vanilla caressed her nostrils. Rachel barely suppressed a groan at the harsh click of the lock engaging, trapping her with the person who was rapidly becoming a thorn in her side. She rubbed her hands together, trying to hasten the process of converting back to their normal form, but Quinn was upon her before the process was complete.

"Ugh, what is _with_ those man hands of yours?" The blonde asked, disgusted at the ragged appearance enough to be distracted from her initial reason for being in the restroom.

The transformation complete, Rachel suppressed her usual grimace at the pain and turned to face Quinn. "Nothing. And what do I owe the pleasure of your company this time, Quinn?"

Quinn sneered. "Your _company_ is hardly a pleasure, RuPaul."

"And yet, you keep following me into the restrooms." She turned to the mirror, checking to see if her eyes were showing the chocolate fire of her other form. Reassured they weren't, she glanced back to Quinn. "Well, did you need something in here, or are you still following me?"

"Listen up, Manhands, if you'd just accept my damn apology this could all go away." Quinn was fuming. She's never been forced to fight so hard to get someone to accept an apology before and it was infuriating.

The brunette's hands closed on the edge of the sink, the soft groan of the porcelain barely audible to her sharp ears but it was enough to get her to release it before she caused major damage. The Beast growled at the recesses of her consciousness, demanding to be let out to put this infuriating whelp into her proper place. Which, of course, to its bloody mind, was sloppy gobbets strewed about the red and white surfaces of the bathroom.

Quinn might be irritating, Rachel thought to herself, but she did _not_ deserve to be murdered and consumed. Nostrils flaring slightly at the effort, she managed to force the snarling monster back to its cage deep within the depths of her soul.

"Is there something _wrong_ with you?" The blonde's acribic tone cut through her focus, almost letting the Beast slip out but with a Herculean mental effort she managed to catch it and reign it back in under control once more.

"Only your continued obsession with _apologizing_ for something you have proven you don't regret in the slightest." Rachel snapped, tired of their little feud. "Now, I need to be getting to class."

Quinn's hand snapped out as Rachel tried to brush past her, long fingers wrapping around her wrist. She pulled, and Rachel didn't resist, finding it easier to go along than to risk riling up the Beast again. Once they were facing each other again, Rachel found herself confronted with the other girl's angry hazel gaze.

"You don't _walk_ out on _me_ , Berry." Quinn's voice was a sharp hiss, forcing its way through perfectly straight and white teeth. "We are _talking_."

Rachel dropped her gaze to Quinn's hand on her arm for a moment, then reached over and pulled it off. "I believe you are the only one still talking, Quinn. I am leaving."

Quinn stared in disbelief as the _infuriating_ girl unlocked the door with a casual flip of her wrist and slipped through. Once the door closed again, she couldn't hold back the aggravated yell that escaped her lips any longer. A moment later the door pushed open and one of the JV Cheerios poked her head in.

"What do you _want_? Get out!"

The other girl quickly pulled her head back out of the room and the door thudded shut again. Quinn glared at the door as if it had personally gone out of its way to offend her. Fine, if that was the way Berry wanted to play it, she was done being nice and extending the olive branch of friendship. Berry wanted to play hardball, Quinn would definitely step up to the bat.

It was time to start showing her just how bad it could be to get on the bad side of a Fabray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, please. I'll do my best to respond to comments.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, shes not vegan. You cant exactly eat people and be vegan.
> 
> There has been interest expressed about a flashback sort of scene involving how Rachel came to be as she is. If you're interested, please let me know, because I'm loathe to write flashbacks when there's not any interest in them.
> 
> Also, there's been a major mix up on posting and I'm fixing it now.

**Chapter Three**

As she felt the sharply cold wind slide past her flesh, the subtle changes in the current tickling along taut skin as she made changes as delicately adept as a concert pianist, Rachel thought that _this_ almost made up for all of the horrible things shed had to do through the years. The beautiful freedom of the wind in her face and the air bitingly cold and thin in her expanded lungs. The knowledge that _here_ no one could touch her.

The joy of being able to _fly_.

She snapped her wings tight about herself and slowly slipped backwards to began plummeting towards the ground. Stretching them out again almost at the last moment with a crackling boom like thunder in the night, she caught the wind again and beat powerfully against it, driving herself back into the starry sky. Being able to fly like this, she thought, almost made being a monster worth it.

But a scream caught her ears, thinned by the distance beneath her, and distracted her from her pleasure, bringing her attention back to the reason she was out there. Placating the Beast. She seemed to hang in mid-air for a moment, massive wings sweeping back and forth to hold her in a relative hover for a moment as she tried to determine the source of the cry.

Another scream, this one sounding more panicked than the last, and a faint scent of blood and pain tickled her nose. A narrow tongue flicked out to lick at the rows of shark-like teeth filling her mouth at the scent as her eyes rolled back in delicious pleasure for the moment as the Beast glorified in it. Then the moment was past and Rachel reasserted her dominion over the monster she kept in her soul.

Her wings snapped closed around her as she ducked into a steep stoop, arrowing towards the darkened corner by the back of the towns movie theater. A scream ripped its way from her throat at the sight of the tall man menacing the smaller woman cowering before him, a harshly shrill thing that echoed and rang from the surrounding walls. The man looked up realizing what was happening just soon enough for his eyes to widen in surprise before Rachel's talons sank deep into his shoulder and the side of his throat and her wings rippled and roared as they caught and cupped the air.

She lifted back into the air with a bit more strain than before but no less swiftness. The man was jerked from the ground, only frightened gargles wheezing out of his mouth. After they were high enough that she was certain his victim could not see, she kicked him into the air, catching swooping to catch him with a massive paw, claws sinking into the bones of his face. She peered at him with eyes that burned like balls of chocolate flame in the bony recesses of her skull and her snake-like tongue darted out again and again to caress teeth filling her too full mouth. Her dark hair whipped like snakes around her face, soft tendrils wrapping about in shocking contrast to the white bone of the horns that curled back from her forehead, curving down along the arch of her skull protectively.

"You prey upon _my_ people in _my_ town," she whispered almost gently, the words coming out hissed and sibilant through her oddly shaped mouth, her free hand crushing a flailing arm with an almost negligent grasp, tearing the appendage from its place, " _I_ prey upon _you_." Rachel smiled horribly and opened her too full mouth too wide.

He shrieked then, like a rabbit beneath a wolf's slavering jaws, thin and breathy, knowing that he was dead. The sound echoed through the night for a long time, blood spattering the ground far below like rain as she fed on his pain, his terror. Eventually, the sound stopped. And sated, so did the Beasts grumblings.

* * *

Nearly two hours after intercepting the former mugger, Rachel back-winged hard to slow her decent, finally furling her wings and allowing herself to drop the remaining fifteen or so feet to the ground. Her powerful legs flexed heavily as they absorbed the impact of landing, dropping her down into a three point crouch, one clawed paw darting out to steady her. As she straightened, a smallish man with dark rimmed glasses hurried out of the back door of the house into the fenced yard with a blanket clutched in his hands.

She'd began shaking almost as soon as she regained her feet, a vicious shudder that wracked her entire body. The man wrapped his arms around her, dragging the blanket past where her wings carpeted the ground, her trembling body no longer able to keep them up and folded against her. She clung to him, basking in the warmth of his affection while her bones popped and ground themselves apart at the insistent straining of her muscles.

It _hurt_. It _always_ hurt to come back from the monster. She bit her lips until they bled to keep from screaming at the white hot agony that coursed through her body when the change came over. Just as it was agony to stretch into the lanky six foot three monster with the better than sixty feet of wing with its reconfigured body mass and musculature, it was fiercely radiant pain to have to compress it all back into her normal five foot two mostly human frame again.

"Hiram." She whispered, clinging to the man, her voice thready with pain as her bones crushed themselves down into the denser, shorter, _human_ forms.

"It's okay, mom. It's okay." Perhaps he was supposed to be playing the part of the doting father now, but she'd always be the woman who'd raised him. He stroked her hair, gently as she slowly shrank in his arms. He hated how much it hurt her to change back and forth, hated the tears that streaked her cheeks every time. Most of all he was beginning to hate one particular cheerleader at that _school_ for driving her to the point where she was taking on her other form almost every night to keep control.

A step rustling the grass nearby them alerted him to the tall, black mans presence. He reached out a hand and pulled him in to the hug. Leroy was a godsend, Hiram thought, taking comfort in the other mans quiet warmth and caring. He'd never thought he'd find someone who'd understand the crazy dynamics of his and Rachel's life and he was so very grateful that not only had Leroy understood it, but was able to open his heart to the sobbing woman and take a place alongside her son in protecting her from the world.

Rachel knew shed never get over the sensations of changing from one form to another. It was hard to get over the feeling of your teeth bursting all at once from your gums as the myriad shark-like teeth clattered out to fall scattered around your feet, or the slickly disturbing sensation of wings sliding back into the hidden recesses of your back or muscles detaching themselves and crawling like worms under your skin until they reattached in a different configuration. She knew she'd never get over it, but it was... it was _easier_ when she was with loved ones.

She could feel their love, Hiram's warm and unselfish love of a child for a parent, Leroy's bright affection and respect. It draped over the pain like a soft blanket, pushing just one step back. It wasn't a big step, but it made the pain bearable. She'd had to change alone before and the screaming agony almost caused her to black out.

Finally she huddled in their arms, just another teenaged girl, though a bit small for her age, in a dark slightly loose spandex bodysuit. She dried her tears with a still shaking hand and smiled for her fathers.

"Thank you." The words were soft, almost lost in the night air.

The men didn't say a word. They just gave her another squeeze and help her inside to bed.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, everyone. Didn't realize I put the wrong chapter up yesterday.

**Chapter Four**

"You're joining the Cheerios."

The blonde's statement was the sort of there-is-no-disputing-this, flat command that teenagers rarely liked to hear. Especially coming from another teen. _Especially_ coming from _this_ teen and being directed at the other two in her room.

"That crazy diet the cheer coach have you on finally kill of your last few brain cells, Q?" The slim Latina girl kicked her black and white hi-top sneakers down off the desk where shed had them propped and tossed the magazine shed been reading over to take their place. "We're not joining your little perv party."

"It's not a _perv party_ , Santana, don't be _crude_." Quinn rolled her eyes at the dark girl, wondering, yet again, why she was best friends with the crass girl, before turning back to the mirror on her vanity. "And yes, you are."

The lanky blonde on the bed finally looked up from the book she was perusing as she stretched out on the bed. "Why?"

Quinn sighed with mild irritation. "I need allies and I need clout. You'd give me both in one fell swoop."

"You don't need us for that. You're a pretty blonde athlete. Sort of. Just go bat your eyes at one of the football players." Santana let out a brief huff of exasperation as she smoothed down the legs of her dark jeans. "Besides, I'm a _gymnast_. I'm not interested in dancing around in some little skirt going 'rah rah rah' with pom poms."

"I like dancing, San." The blonde on the bed rolled over, now holding the book over her head as she idly flipped through the pages. "I'm good at it."

"I know you are, B. That's why you're on the dance team, remember?" The Latina directed a look of softly amused patience at her friend before turning her attention back to where Quinn was still adjusting her ponytail and fixing her makeup. "Seriously, Q, if I join your little club, Papi'll make me drop karate. And, hello? I _need_ me some stress relief else I'm gonna seriously kill like half the guys in our class."

Quinn threw her eyeliner pencil down on the vanity with a scowl, the thin black instrument clattering noisily across the white wood. She spun around on her stool to face the two girls now looking at her with wide eyes. "You can get your damn stress relief at Cheerios practice! I _need_ you two in the Cheerios with me! I _need_ backup!"

"San, we should help Q." Brittany rolled over in the bed again, her blonde hair tumbling down one side of her head where it'd flipped in her roll, the book forgotten alongside her as she locked pleading eyes with her best friend sitting in the desk chair. "She's our friend and friends help each other." She glanced over her shoulder at where Quinn was sitting, looking frustrated and upset. "Come on, San. It'll be fun. And we can dance together!"

Santana gave a quiet chuckle at Brittany's pleading, running one hand through her black hair. "Oh alright, fine. Don't get your panties in such a twist, Q. We got your back."

The smile that lit up Quinn's face was full of relief at Santana's words. She knew where she wanted to be, captain of the squad, and with the help of two of the schools best dancers, there was no way she'd be denied that coveted position. And then there was always her _other_ problem. Her smile turned crafty as she started thinking about how much help her two best friends could be in taking her nemesis down a peg or two until the damn stuck-up girl would finally accept her apology.

"There is _one_ other thing you can help me with, guys..."

* * *

Quinn was curled up on her bed, leafing through the pages of her English class reading assignment when her mom walked in. She glanced up at the sound of the light knock on her door frame, brightening for a moment before she noticed the cut crystal glass of gin and tonic in her moms hand and glancing back down to her book. She didn't say anything, she wouldn't, but she hated how often she was seeing that glass in that hand.

"Hey, baby girl. What's going on?" The older woman sat on the edge of the bed behind her, reaching out to lightly rub Quinn's shoulder.

"Nothing much." She wrinkled her nose slightly at the slight quiver in her moms soft voice and the faint tang of alcohol in the air. "Just doing homework." The book in her hand was lifted slightly. It was meant to be a hint - please leave and let me work - but she was pretty sure her mom wouldn't notice.

"How's school going for you, Quinnie?" The older blonde hadn't taken the hint. Quinn wasn't surprised. She never did when she was drinking. "Make any new friends yet?"

Quinn sighed, folding over the page she was on and closing the book. She knew she wouldn't be able to get anything else done until she satisfied her mom's need for conversation. "Mom, I've told you. I don't need _new_ friends. I've got San and Brit."

"Yes, I know you do, dear. But there's nothing wrong with more - with _more_ friends." The pause hid the judgment on Brittany and Santana, hid the missing 'acceptable' in silence, but it didn't hide it from Quinn. She knew how her family felt about the two girls who'd been her best friends since kindergarten. She _knew_ , which was why she hid the _other_ side of the two girl's relationship, hid its _depth_ from her parents. Because they're her _friends_ and she doesn't want to lose them. "And you're in _high school_ now!" The older woman's smile was bright and Quinn knew - _dreaded_ \- where this was going. "You should have a _boy_ friend."

"Mom!" Quinn couldn't hide the shock she felt, even though she'd pretty much known what the woman was going to say. "I don't even _want_ a boyfriend!"

"Now, Quinnie. High school's a very important time for young girls." The woman took a sip from her glass, ice clinking noisily against the edge. "It's the spring time of your life! Time for love to blossom! You know I met your father in high school." A low chuckle and a slightly too heavy nudge against her shoulder.

"Yes, mom. You've told me before." Quinn sighed softly, looking over her shoulder at her mom. "But I really haven't met anyone I want to date. Really."

"Don't get so down, sweetie. Someone will come for you." A pinch to her cheek just a little too rough. "Cute as you are you won't be alone forever."

Quinn blanched at that internally, but didn't let it show on her face. Instead she smiled warmly at her mom and decided to cut off the conversation as quickly as possible. "Thanks, mom. But, I really got to get this reading done before bed tonight." She held up her book again.

"Well, okay, sweetie. But remember what I said, okay?" The woman stood, patting her daughter's shoulder again. "You really could use someone strong in your life."

And then she was out the door, ignoring the tear that trickled down her daughter's face behind her. Quinn glared at the wall for a moment, then brushed it away and opened her book again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

The months following the sudden defection of Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce from the gymnastics team (thus tanking their hopes for taking Regionals and avoiding being conquered by Sue Sylvester's Cheerios) and dance team for the Cheerios respectively were a unique form of hell for one Rachel Berry. She wasn't sure what she'd done to afford their gleeful vitriol, but it seemed like everywhere she turned it was either Santana, Brittany, or the one she'd began to dread the most, Quinn Fabray, ready with another bitingly caustic remark. And with the leadership of their Triumvirate, the rest of the Cheerios and the school's jocks began to hurl abuse and slushies at her as well, almost every day.

Too many times she'd had to run to a bathroom and lock herself in to avoid painting the halls red with her classmates' blood. Too many times she'd had to expend valuable energy to heal the punctures in her hands as she'd tried to conceal her lengthening claws inside of tightly clenched fists. Too many times she'd felt the muscles began to disconnect, to reform. Too many times the Beast had nearly _escaped_.

In other news, Lima, Ohio was experiencing a remarkable dearth of criminal activity with many of the less savory elements finding their way out of Lima incredibly quietly. And there was an alarming rumor of a winged monster, somehow connected with the Mothman in most reports, being behind it. Lima's very own vengeful saviour.

She _seriously_ needed a better distraction. Preferably _before_ she snapped and ate a certain blonde cheerleader.

* * *

Quinn wasn't really sure why she was doing this.

Perhaps it was that he was cute. Perhaps it was Coach Sylvester's insistence on arm candy for her Cheerios. Most likely she was just tired of her moms drunken pleadings for her to 'get a boyfriend before you waste away, sweetheart'.

Whatever it was, she found herself smiling up at the oversized doofus of a back-up quarterback and toying with the string on his hoodie. Finn was sweet, in a confused sort of way, and probably loyal with the stories about his dad going around. She really wasn't interested in him as a boyfriend, but he fit the criteria well enough. Big, strong, popular and cute. Also gave the impression of dumb as a rock, but she was pretty sure no one could be _that_ stupid.

And with Johnson, the _current_ quarterback graduating this year, he was a shoe-in to take the spot. Quarterback, head cheerleader. A match made in the heaven of her mother's inebriated mind.

"So... how come you've never asked me out, Finn?" She smirked at him, flicking his chin with the tip of the string.

"I... um... I didn't know you wanted me to?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing around the hall to see who was watching him, a slight flush coloring the edges of his cheekbones.

She giggled, a light trilling sound designed to lay him at ease while inside she was starting to have doubts about her thought that he couldn't be as dumb as he seemed. "Why, silly, a big, handsome boy like you? Of _course_ , I did!"

"Oh, um... I'm sorry." He shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do with them while he grinned down at her. "I didn't know."

"Well, you do now!" She almost couldn't help the bite to her words, but she kept it back at the last second, gazing coyly up at him through her eyelashes. "Or are you going to be mean and make me do all the work?"

"What? Oh! No! No, of course not!" His hands popped out in front of her so fast she had to lean back to avoid being smacked. "I don't want to be mean or nothing, Quinn. Um... do you want to go to Breadsticks? Maybe tonight? I can pick you up at seven? Um, if you want."

She smiled at him, just barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "That sounds great, Finn. I'll see you then."

She hopped up on her toes for a moment to lightly peck him on the cheek then spun about on one heel in a swirl of skirt and headed off down the hall. She couldn't stop the smirk that blossomed on her face, just knowing that he was still standing there with that dumbfounded smile and a blush on his cheeks. He hadn't stood a chance against the likes of Quinn Fabray.

Her smile fell as she thought of the one person who kept _insisting_ on resisting and she reached out and snagged the arm of a passing puck-head. She smirked up at him, an evil glint in her eye.

"You know Rachel Berry, yes?" At his nod, her smirk deepened. "Good, I want to see her _drenched_ with slushies before this period is over. Make her a walking Pride flag. Do you understand me?" Another nod. "Good."

Her smirk couldn't be tainted at all by the annoyance that was Rachel Berry any longer. Now she just needed to find an adequate way to avoid any... _physical_ problems with her new arm candy. A pale pink flier on the wall caught her attention as it fluttered in the breeze of her passing.

Celibacy Club? That sounded just about _perfect_.

* * *

The warm water cascading down from the shower head was a relief after the fierce cold of the multiple slushies that had cascaded over her face earlier. She was so grateful that it had occurred before her free period so she could get away with skipping out and sneaking to the locker room to actually shower off before changing instead of haphazardly cleaning up at a sink. It was a rare pleasure that she liked to indulge after getting hit with multiple slushies before her free period class.

She'd just finished lathering up and had just started to rinse the soap off her face when she felt a hand land heavily on her shoulder. The shower cut out a moment later. She whirled about, so startled she barely had the presence of mind to hold back the Beast that almost ripped out of her to protect her from her unknown assailant, let alone to actually think about the fact that she was naked.

And there, with both of her hands now back on her skirt covered hips like the insufferable head cheerleader she was determined to become, stood Quinn Fabray, hazel gaze raking over her body like it was some kind of amusing display. Rachel's eyes narrowed, her anger making her ignore her nudity to place her fists on her hips and glare.

"Can I _help_ you, Quinn?" Her tone was sharp, biting, but she didn't have the strength of mind to keep her voice socially polite _and_ restrain the Beast.

"You know how this works, Manhands." Quinn couldn't help the smirk twitching at her lips as she took in the smaller girl practically vibrating with anger in front of her. She didn't often get an honest reaction out of the other girl and she found that she was quite relishing the chance to see her emotionally unbound. "Accept my apology and I'll be out of your hair."

"Your apology? Your _apology_? You cornered me in the _shower_ because I wont accept your _apology_?" Her voice was rising and she was having trouble keeping the Beast entirely in check as her ire rose. Her eyes sparked and flamed in a pale echo to the chocolate fire of her other form. "What is _wrong_ with you, Quinn Fabray?"

Hazel eyes flashed down Rachel's nude body almost as if seeing it for the first time before snapping back to the balls of brown fire flickering in Rachel's face. "Every other time, you escape." A shrug. Was the other girl getting _taller_? "Now you cant run away. Accept the apology, Treasure Trail."

"Treasure trail? What does that even _mean_? What is with you and these childish nicknames?" She stopped suddenly, seeming to draw in herself, ignoring the thin trickle of red dripping from her palms. "You know what? Never mind. I don't care about the nicknames, Quinn."

"Aw, how _touching_." Quinn scoffed, sneering at the soapy brunette. "Like I care. Accept the damn apology now, Berry."

Rachel screwed her eyes shut, bringing up one hand to touch her face as she tried desperately to regain control. She was actively arguing in her mind against the Beast's angry roars to rip her apart, to devour her so she couldn't _bother_ them any more. Most of the conversation was restrained, but one softly impassioned plea escaped. "No."

"No? What the hell do you mean no?"

Brown eyes snapped open, no longer looking like someone had dropped a match in her eyes as Rachel gained the upper hand and locked the Beast back away. "I mean no. As in no, I am _not_ going to accept your apology, Quinn."

"Why the hell not?" Quinn's brow furrowed. This was not going as planned. Rachel was supposed to accept her apology and they were supposed to move _on_ from this. She wasn't sure _what_ they were supposed to move on _to_ , but she was getting tired of the fighting. They could be friends, she thought, if Rachel would stop being so damn stubborn about the apology. She'd _like_ another friend. Someone who _wasn't_ dating her other best friend. Maybe _that_ was she wanted them to move on to. But she wasn't sure.

"Because," Rachel spun away, flicking the shower back on and quickly rinsing off the last of the soap as she spoke, "you don't _mean_ it." Turning off the shower, she grabbed her towel and flicked it about herself, slipping around a started Quinn back out to the lockers and her clothes.

A moment later, Quinn shook herself out of her startlement and followed her out in time to see her finish pulling on her undergarments. "What do you mean by that?"

Rachel pulled up her skirt and fastened it before dropping to the bench with a sigh. "I'm very blunt, Quinn. I tend to say exactly what I mean. I'm surprised you haven't realized that by now."

"Of course, I realized that." Quinn made a shooing motion with her hand as she straddled the bench, hazel eyes still fixed on Rachel, it was one of the first things she'd learned about the brunette. "But I want to know why you don't think I mean it. Because I did."

"Really." Rachel glanced over at her for a moment before turning back to her bag and pulling out a fresh shirt. "And the insults and constant slushies facials do an," her words were muffled by the fabric for a moment before her head popped out the top, "excellent job of demonstrating your truly heart-felt apology, I'm sure."

"That's your own fault, Berry. If you'd just accepted the apology in the first -" Rachel cut her off mid-sentence with a gentle fingers on her lips and a quiet brown gaze. Quinn stopped, startled by the strange sensation of being deliberately touched by Rachel in a manner that wasn't fueled by an angry reaction for the first time in all of the months she'd known her.

"Just stop, Quinn, okay? We don't need to keep up this silly charade any longer. It's not about the apology or its lack of meaning or my acceptance or lack thereof." Rachel stood, gathering her things. "You just don't like me. And that's fine, Quinn. I can take the names, the slushies, whatever. Just, please, stop pretending like you want to apologize to me for it."

And she left, shirt swishing about her legs and door thumping quietly closed behind her as it always did when she walked out on Quinn. Quinn was left sitting on the bench and staring at the door with a confused expression on her face.

"But I wasn't pretending, Rachel." Her soft words echoed in the empty locker room for a moment. But they sounded hollow even to her.

* * *

Music had been a part of Rachel's everyday existence even before she'd been murdered. It was even built into the very foundation of this particular 'incarnation' of hers. So of course, in her time of need, she decided to turn to music once again. Particularly her favorite passion: _singing_.

Unfortunately, the choirs of WMHS left more than a little to be desired. They were weak, underfunded - or rather not at _all_ funded -, and more than a little timid. She could whip them into shape and make a competition ready group out of them, she was certain. But why go to all that effort when there was a perfectly suitable alternative?

_Show choir_. Even the _name_ seemed destined for greatness. The glee club could, in one fell swoop, capture her attention, thus providing a ready distraction, and allow her to build the necessary diva attitude for success on Broadway. It was a pure win win scenario.

Except for the fact that one nasty little man named Sandy Ryerson had himself in complete control of the glee club along with the other music programs. And he was _determined_ to make it a boys only sort of club. This did not sit well with the budding diva attitude she was supposed to be cultivating.

So she kept her eyes open and watched the music instructor's every move and interaction. Until finally she spotted what she needed in the last week before classes let out for the summer. A caress. Of a _student_.

She could barely restrain herself from smiling as she stormed down the hall towards Principal Figgins' office. Things would be very different come sophomore year.

* * *

Quinn let the door to Coach Sylvester's office click quietly shut behind her as she left the Cheerios taskmistress's inner sanctum. In one of the rare moments of her time at WMHS, she felt an actual smile tickling the corners of her lips. She'd been hoping all year, but this meeting with her coach confirmed it and she clutched the heavy white binder in her arms a bit closer to her chest in blissful joy.

She was to be the captain. The _captain_. In her sophomore year. The youngest captain of the Cheerios _ever_.

She couldn't restrain it any longer. The smile escaped and broke into a full on grin that brightened her whole face. She couldn't keep herself from giving a little impromptu pirouette in the middle of the hall, a delighted laugh bursting from her lips.

She'd tell San and Britt about it tonight when they came over to celebrate the last day of school. Of course, they'd be her seconds-in-command. It went without saying. She hugged the binder again. Come cheer camp, they'd show Coach Sylvester she hadn't made a mistake picking Quinn to lead the team. They'd drive the team to heights it'd never before seen.

A flash of brown hair caught her attention, the owner whipping around the corner.

It'd only been a second, but she recognized her. Of course, she did. Rachel Berry, bane of her existence. The smile faded from her lips.

The girl was infuriating. Pretending to know what was in Quinn's mind like that. _Telling_ her she didn't mean her apology. Well, she was right about one thing. Quinn _didn't_ mean it. Not any more. What had she been thinking? She could _never_ be friends with someone like _that_.

She stalked out of the school, stony mask firmly in place. She was done with trying to apologize. Things would be very different come sophomore year.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Cheer camp had _not_ been what she'd been expecting. Sure, camp her freshman year had been hard, but she'd only had to worry about herself then. As captain, she not only had to worry about herself, but also all of the other girls on the team, their routines, training schedules _and_ diet. If it wasn't for Santana and Brittany, she wasn't sure she'd have made it.

For a briefly fleeting moment, she'd wondered if it would have been easier with a fourth person on her side. And maybe that fourth person wouldn't have been a Cheerio. And maybe they would have had soft brown hair. And maybe they would have had eyes that burned like balls of brown fire when they were angry. Maybe they would have been someone who could have listened to her and not back down from the stupid crap she pulled out when she was angry.

But, she didn't have anyone like that. She didn't _need_ anyone like that. She had Brittany and Santana. And maybe they spent more time fixated on each other with giggles and soft touches poorly hidden from anyone who knew them, but they were her friends and, like she kept telling her mom, she didn't need anyone else.

Yet she still paused for a moment outside the locker room and glanced down the empty hall hoping for a glimpse of flashing eyes or a swirl of brunette hair. A bright glimpse of a brilliant smile she'd never seen directed at herself. She'd never admit what she was looking for or how much she wanted to see it. Not even to herself.

A soft sigh escaped her lips for a moment before she pushed through the door to prepare for morning practice.

* * *

She'd never held a great deal of hope for the school's Spanish teacher, but looking at the white sheet on the bulletin board declaring that auditions for New Directions were available for sign up, she started wondering if maybe he did have some redeeming qualities. There were actually other names on the list as well. Other students who shared that inner fire to be the _best_. To be a part of something _special_.

With a satisfied smile, she gripped her pen carefully in her hand and neatly inscribed her name on the first open line. There was barely any hesitation this time before she affixed a gold star sticker after it. It had taken a while to get used to this specific quirk she'd developed for this incarnation', but she was finally getting a handle on it. Rachel Berry was a _star_ after all, the sticker was just a metaphor. And metaphors were important.

Finally satisfied, she turns away with a proud grin wreathing her face. It was sophomore year. Things were already looking up.

Right until the cherry flavored iced splashed across her features, shocking her into silence with the sudden cold and making her spend a valuable moment grappling with her suddenly raging Beast. It had been fast and had taken her by surprise, but had she _recognized_ her assailant? She flicked the ice from her eyes with hasty hands and spun about, brown eyes narrowing as she spotted a familiar pair broad shoulders and narrow waist striding down the hall with a empty cup in hand. The ever present hairstyle just confirmed it for her.

"Noah Puckerman!" Her shrill voice cut through the general noise of the crowd and the boy stopped dead in his tracks. "Noah! I _know_ it's you! How _dare_ you?"

He turned slowly, jaw dropped and mouth hanging slightly open in shock as he took in who he'd just assaulted with a slushie, as suggested by the football team's _other_ halfback. The one who wasn't nearly as awesome as he was on the field. He'd only just transferred to WMHS this year and he'd had no idea _she_ would be here.

For a moment he was stunned. She looked the same as she had when they'd first met. Different clothes maybe, but her face, that _nose_ , the way her eyes flashed when she was angry. "R- _rachel_?" He felt like an idiot for stammering, but he couldn't help it. "Rachel _Berry_?"

She glared down the hall for a moment before storming over to stand in front of him, now glaring _up_ at him. It'd been a long time, but she was still shorter than him. He smirked, only barely resisting the urge to give her a hug. The slushie mess still dripping off of her definitely helped in the resisting.

"Of _course_ , it's me. Who else would call you out in the middle of a hallway for your _exceedingly_ juvenile behavior?" She reached out and smacked the taller boy lightly, ignoring that her eyes were definitely reaching the "burning brand" stage. "Seriously, Noah? A _slushie_?"

"Look, I'm sorry, Rach. I didn't know it was you." He shrugged, waving his hands out to the side, nearly smacking a passing freshman with the cup still gripped in his hand. "You know I'd never do something like that to you." His voice dropped to a low hiss, nearly sub-vocalizing, not wanting to share the comment with the rest of the hall. "You'd kick my ass."

"You are astute as ever, Noah." She heard him. He knew she would. A light smile turned up one corner of her lips, allowing a tiny peek of teeth that were far too sharp. "What are you doing here?"

"Going to school, what's it look like?" He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Every high school needs the Puckersaurus in it."

She grinned, pulling the Beast back down. The Beast liked Noah, liked his casual charm, and it didn't hurt that she enjoyed his company as well. "It's been a long time, Noah. How've you been?"

He caught her arm and escorted her to the nearest restroom to clean up. "You know me, always up for something new." His leer and eyebrow waggle made her laugh, the same as it always had. He pushed the door open, escorting her in and grabbing a folding chair. "Here, let me help with that."

"You don't have to, Noah." She began collecting the items she'd need to clean the sticky red mess off her face. "It's okay. You can go now."

"No, really, I want to. It's my fault, so I should help clean up." He looked slightly upset at the thought that Rachel was blowing him off. Sure she was all kinds of special crazy, but she was _his_ special crazy. "I'm not some deadbeat, Rach."

She paused in what she was doing to walk over and lay a hand on his arm, catching his attention. "I know you're not, Noah, but it really is okay." She smiled, now altogether Rachel, the Beast curled up back in its cage, content for now. "I'm used to it."

He frowned. "You shouldn't be. You're better than this. Better than all of _them_. They don't have any -"

She cut him off, her fingers against his lips. "And they don't need to know. I'm okay with this, Noah."

"But, Rach..."

"Seriously, I'm okay. I can handle this. Go, play football, or whatever you're doing now." Her smile was brave, and he hated that she felt the need to put on that sort of face around him. They'd been close enough that she shouldn't feel the need to do that with him. "I'll see you later."

This time he didn't resist the urge. He reached out and folded her into his arms, pulling her close. She rested one hand against the hard planes of his chest, allowing herself to relax into his arms, confident that the Beast wouldn't rise up while he was near. "Hot Jews like us need to stick together, Rachel. I've got your back."

"I'm not sure we can even be considered Jewish any more." Her body shook slightly with laughter, and her eyes sparkled as she turned her face up to his. "But I know you do, Noah. And thank you."

He pushed her back a bit to make it easier to see her face, but didn't let go. "For what?"

"For being my friend." That shy smile he hadn't seen in years was back. "Thank you."

He just smirked at her and grabbed the towel, swiping a clump of ice off of her head. "Any time, Rachel." His smirk became the smile he'd given her once a long time ago and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Every time."

She might be older, she might be _stronger_ , but she'd always be his girl. Even when she wasn't.

* * *

Finn wasn't sure what to do. He'd been accused of having drugs and threatened with jail and he didn't even know _why_. And now he was being forced to join the biggest group of outcasts in the school.

Glee club.

Quinn wouldn't approve. He knew it. None of the guys would either.

And then there was that girl. Rachel. She seemed nice and all, but she got _way_ too into her singing. It was kinda scary. Not scary like _Quinn_ was scary, but like _intense_. Real intense.

And now there was a _mandatory field trip_. What did Mr. Schue think they were? Grade schoolers? And it was on _Saturday_. He had _practice_ on Saturday.

He shoved his books into his locker, banging them around for a moment before slamming the door shut and heading off to the locker room. He wasn't looking forward to explaining to Coach Tanaka that he wouldn't be able to be there because of some silly Glee thing. He was especially not looking forward to any of the guys finding out he was in that club. He liked singing and all, sure, but it looked really bad. Like _really_ bad.

He just didn't know what to _do_ anymore.

* * *

Puck was waiting for her when she came out the backdoor of her home. He sprawled over the garden bench in his loose jeans and black muscle shirt, looking completely casual, as if he wasn't sitting uninvited in a yard surrounded by an eight foot high privacy fence. He took a swig from the beer bottle dangling from one limp hand as he watched the stars speckling the clear night sky.

She smiled when she saw him. It'd been nearly seventy three years since they'd last seen each other, but some things didn't change. When they were together, they ran together, hunted together. They were a strange sort of family, but when you lost so many over the years, the ones that didn't change, didn't pass from your life like so many wisps of smoke, they were the ones you clung to with all your might. Now that they knew they were in the same territory again, it was only natural that he would find her.

"Noah." Her voice was soft in the night, a quiet whisper almost lost to the night's breezes, but he heard. He turned his head and smiled, standing from his seat.

"Rach." He wrapped her in his arms again and she just let herself melt into the warmth of his embrace.

She'd heard the rumors about him, knew how he always developed a reputation for womanizing. But there was nothing sexual about the hug, only the offer and acceptance of comfort. They knew each other better than anyone still alive. For a time, they'd been each other's world, their everything. That time was past, but their friendship remained.

They parted. "Is it time?"

She nodded, and the space between them opened. He pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the ground where it was quickly joined by his jeans. Unlike her, his change didn't allow him the convenience of a humanoid form. Finally he stood, clad only in the light of the stars, waiting calmly until she finished neatly folding her outer layers and stacking them on the back steps for her "fathers" to collect after the change, leaving her only in the underlying spandex bodysuit, a bit large for her petite form.

She changed first. She always did. The muscles of her arms and legs whirled and writhed under her skin, changing the connections. Under the spandex covering her back, the flesh bulged and rippled as the extra heavy ropes of muscles needed to drive the massive wings ripping their way from her flesh formed themselves. She keened softly at the pain as her hands twisted, sprouting massive claws, as her legs broke, lengthening and reforming, as her horns burst from her skull in a soft spray of blood that spattered his chest. She shook with the pain, trembling in agony, but she never allowed her voice to raise from the soft cries that hurt his ears. Finally, she stood before him, still shaking like a newborn lamb, all six feet and more of horn, muscle, and talons. Her wings shivered in the air as she belled them outwards, getting the first taste of the night air.

Their eyes met and almost immediately his entire body seized, every muscle going rigid at once as if they were trying to rip him physically apart. His teeth clenched against the pain, eyes squinted shut with silent tears leaking out as his hands and feet bent and broke of their own accord. His jaw twisted, shattering and lengthening before reforming into a canine snout. Fur sprouted from every inch of skin even as his ears lengthened and a stiff brush of a tail erupted from the base of his spine. He curled, hunching in on himself as his spine realigned, driving him to all fours. Finally, the pain grew too much to bear in silence and he opened his mouth to scream. All emerged was a long, low, mournful howl.

Rachel flexed her legs, powerful thighs sending her surging into the night's sky. Below, a massive black wolf, larger than any dog though slightly smaller than a pony, gathered itself and leapt over the fence, easily clearing the tops of the wooden pickets. They matched each other's course the same as they always did when hunting together. Tonight they would sate themselves on deer, Rachel's Beast not needing the sweet terror of human suffering.

They both preferred it that way.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Quinn was getting frustrated.

Everything was going her way. She and her two best friends were the three hottest and most popular girls in school, no question. The quarterback of the football team was her boyfriend of nearly four months now, even if he was a complete moron. And she was the captain of the cheerleading team. Everything was going her way.

And yet, she was so very frustrated.

Coach Sylvester was riding her about her weight, insisting that she went on yet another Sue Sylvester's own bizarre and freakishly unhealthy 'diet'. Her mom was pushing her to bring Finn home for a family dinner to 'meet the parents'. And Santana's competitiveness and desire to be the best on any team was making her insistence that the hot Latina join the Cheerios come back and bite her in the ass. If it wasn't for Brittany's soothing, the two would have been at each others throats already.

 _Nothing_ was going as she'd planned it. But... She glanced down the hall, spotting her freshman rival chatting with _her_ boyfriend. _That_ was the final straw. She stormed down the hall towards them. If _she_ wasn't allowed to talk to her, to laugh with her, then _damn_ if her _boyfriend_ was allowed to. Not that she'd ever admit to any of that.

"Finn." She glanced to the dour brunette standing in the corner at the end of the locker row. "R-uPaul." Inside she raged at herself for the near slip. Quinn freaking Fabray does _not_ call her _rival_ by her first name! She turned her attention back to Finn with a smile, her inner turmoil never appearing on her face. "Why are you talking with her?"

"Uh... I..." Finn stammered, completely at a loss for words. She was getting exasperated by that inability to function at the least surprise.

"Science project." Rachel's voice was marked only by the distinct _lack_ of emotion that filled it. Her expression was blank, eyes never leaving Finn's face, and Quinn found herself missing that inner fire the smaller girl usually displayed towards her, missing how she'd always met her eyes when they argued before. She couldn't help but wonder where it'd gone. Wonder how to get it back. "We're partners."

She wasn't expecting Rachel to defend him with what was obviously a lie. For someone who wanted so badly to be an actress, she was a remarkably bad liar, Quinn mused. "Whatever." Once again her attention was on Finn, though she almost couldn't help herself from watching Rachel out of the corner of her vision, looking to see if she was watching, if she even noticed she was there. "Christ Crusaders. My place. Five o'clock."

Finn smiled that same stupid smile he always got when he thought he'd gotten out of something. "Sounds great."

She'd barely waited for the answer before she swirled off down the hall accompanied by her two best friends. She just couldn't _stand_ being ignored like that. She was Quinn Fabray dammit. People paid attention to her, they didn't just _ignore_ her.

If Rachel Berry thought she could take their little game to this level without consequences, she had another thing coming.

* * *

The first glimmer of an idea on how to enact her revenge upon the brunette came into being when she spotted the smaller girl chatting with the newest transfer student, David or Abraham or something out of the Bible anyway Puckerman. He'd officially transferred late last year and had made the football team during the summer camp, taking the halfback spot left open after Reggie Allan graduated. She'd seen him around a time or two in school, he was handsome in a rough, unfinished sort of way, but she'd never realized that him and Rachel knew each other.

When she first saw them chatting with each other by Rachel's locker, the taller boy lounging confidently against the lockers to her right in a letterman jacket that looked older than most of the other football players had, dark grey shirt and loose jeans, she'd been struck by how easy they were with each other. He joked and smirked at the brunette with a casual friendliness, not at all concerned with the fallout that could come from hanging out with someone on the bottom of the heap. Quinn bristled at how her eyes seemed to sparkle when she smiled at a joke, the soft trill of her laughter burning the cheerleader's ears even down the hall. When he straightened and took half of the girl's books before offering his arm for an escort to class, she had to resist the urge to run down the hall and break them apart.

Puckerman had the sort of easy charisma that drew girls to him, something born of his confidence in himself and his "bad boy" good looks. He could easily snag half of the girls in the Cheerios, and according to the rumors flocking about the school, he probably _had_. Yet, there he was, walking down the hall arm in arm with _Rachel Berry_ , treating her like she was something _precious_ , someone worth being around, instead of the bottom of the social heap like she was. Just the sight of it was enough to make her stomach roil.

Worse yet, she'd heard about what had happened in the hallway the other day. She'd _heard_ about how Puckerman had thrown a slushie in the girl's face the other day. Heard about how he'd apologized and she'd _accepted_ it. She'd heard all that and she couldn't help the way she felt light headed like she was on some kind of amusement ride seeing them walking down the hall together.

That was when the idea started blossoming in her mind.

Rachel had Puckerman. She had a _friend_ and that bothered Quinn more than anything. If the brunette had just accepted her apology last year, like she'd done for _him_ , that could have been _them_ walking down the hall. _She_ could have been the one standing by her locker in the morning, the one she wanted to walk to class with. But she wasn't, and, even if she didn't want to admit it, that _hurt_.

She spun about on one sneaker clad heel, rubber sole squeaking against the linoleum, an evil smirk on her face, even if her eyes stung fiercely. Irritated by a bit of dust, no doubt. The school just didn't have sufficient levels of cleanliness. But it was fine that she couldn't be friends with the tiny brunette.

She'd just take Puckerman instead.

* * *

Walking up to the door of the modest home with a brown paper bag hiding a pack of wine coolers stolen from her older sister's stash in the basement clutched in her arms and still dressed in her Cheerios' uniform, Quinn might have admitted a passing twinge of trepidation if someone had thought to ask. Santana and Brittany's opinion on the whole thing was just to pop thumbs up and advise her to "never say no" to whatever Puckerman suggested.

She spared a brief thought for what this could do to her relationship with Finn, but it's quickly dismissed. It wasn't like she loved the boy, he was just a convenient placeholder in her life. Someone to get her mother off her back and satisfy the demands that the school's most popular girl have a suitable suitor on her arm. She dismissed the tiny frisson of guilt that shivered through her as she reached up and pressed the little white button for the door bell.

By the time the white door creaked open, she'd quieted the little voices in the back of her mind crying that what she was doing was wrong, that she shouldn't try and steal Puck from Rachel because it wouldn't get her Rachel anyway. So when Puck smirked that cocky grin at her, one arm propped up on the door frame, warm brown eyes - so similar but not the ones she wanted - raking over her body, she answered with a single raised brow, a sly smirk and a short shake of the bag in her hands.

"I've got wine coolers," her tone was playful, no trace of the hesitation she'd felt mere moments before, that, if she were honest, she still felt, "any idea what we could do with them?"

He raised a brow in return, smirk widening into a grin as he stepped aside, waving her into the house. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

The door shut behind her with a soft snick.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Rachel stared at her hand, focusing her attention on her index finger. She pulled her lower lip between her lips, eyes narrowing at the pain of what she was making her hand do, a couple of beads of sweat slowly trickling down her face. Eventually, much slower than a regular transformation, the finger crackled, twisting and bending in ways it wasn't ever intended to. It lengthened, growing into the heavy, be-clawed monstrous appendage of her daemon form.

Wiping the sweat from the effort away with her free hand, she hooked her claw around the neck of one of the beer bottles Puck handed her and gave it a short squeeze and jerk, the razor sharp edge neatly snicking through the neck, leaving a clean cut behind. Catching the severed top before it could clatter on the floor, she tossed it in the direction of the trash can across the room before handing the bottle back to Puck with a grin, pulling the second bottle from his suddenly limp grasp.

"Okay, you have _got_ to teach me how to do that." He finally said with a short laugh of delight as she repeated the procedure on the second bottle.

She laughed back, waggling her hand with its monstrous claw at him for a moment, pulling the tiny fragment of the Beast back in and barely suppressing the wince of discomfort as the digit shifted back to match the rest of her smaller regular hand. "Maybe when you're older."

"You suck." He frowned, almost pouting, except that the Puckersaurus never _pouts_.

"You like it." When he responded with a exaggerated leer and eyebrow waggle, she couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry, but that ship sailed a _long_ time a go, Noah." Taking a swig of her beer, she leaned back in the sofa, watching as he set up the old video game system, a Nintendo something or other. "So, are you going to illuminate for me the identity of the individual who put that satisfied smirk on your face or do must I hazard a guess?"

He hit the button on the front of the grey box, tossing a controller in her direction before joining her on the sofa as the tinny 8-bit music started playing from the TV speakers. "You'll never guess."

"Sofia Ryersen." He just chuckled and shook his head, not even looking away from screen where he was picking a character that looked like a skinny guy in green coveralls. She waited until he took a sip of his beer before making her next guess in the same deadpan tone as the first. "Kurt Hummel."

The fan of beer issuing from his mouth nearly splashed on the TV screen as he whipped his head around to direct a horrified look at her faintly amused expression. "You fucking _kidding_ me, Rach? _Kurt_?" His usual husky tenor had gone shrill at the thought.

She couldn't hold it in any more. It started as a couple of giggles slipping past her lips, turned into a chuckle then finally burst into full on guffaws. She was grateful she'd set her beer on the floor because she was clutching her sides, arms wrapped around her stomach and tears leaking from her eyes she was laughing so hard. After a long minute, the laughing slowed down to bearable levels and she straightened, wiping the tears from her eyes with a shaking hand.

"Oh, god, I needed that so much. Thank you, Noah." She reached out and clutched at his shoulder for a moment, trying to recover from her bout of laughter.

"Oh yeah," he scoffed, still hurt by the jab to his adamant heterosexuality, "anytime."

"I do apologize, Noah, but you make it so very easy sometimes." He didn't reply beyond a short nod indicating he'd accepted the apology, and they turned to the game on the screen. After a little while, she spoke again. "So how's your granddaughter?"

"Sarah? She's good. Joined the choir at school. I hear she's got a solo at the next concert." He glanced over at her sidelong. "You should come. You'd be real proud of her."

Rachel closed her eyes against the brief stab of pain and regret she always felt when reminded of her place in Puck's family. "Don't do this to me, Noah. You know why I don't stay with the same family."

"Hey." He paused the game, setting the controller to the side and turning to face her, one hand reaching out to gently grasp hers. "Hey. Issac was _my_ son too, Rachel. He meant the world to _both_ of us. There might not be much of him left in Sarah, but her and her mom are all we've got left."

"And that's _why_ I won't come, Noah. You _know_ this." She looked up from her controller, brown eyes bright with emotion. "I can't keep watching my children and their children _die_. I can't stand knowing a day will come that I will _never_ see them again. That they will have to grow old and wither away while _I_ will still be here."

"But, Rach, that's why we've got to stay with them. So that we'll see and remember everything." He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close. "So we can be there for them when they need us."

"And I can't do that that." She sighs softly, but doesn't resist the hug. "It's not the same for you. You didn't carry him in your body, under your heart for nine months. You didn't sacrifice of yourself to keep the Beast at bay until he could be born." She pushed away, looking up into his sad face with a gentle smile, one hand cupping his cheek. "I know you loved him, Noah. I do. I did too. But it hurts me too much to watch the lives I've brought into this world fade out of it."

He didn't speak, not because he didn't understand, but because he just didn't have the words to comfort her. He hugged her close one more time, then picked up his controller and turned back to the game. It was how they worked. Wordless comfort followed by putting the thing that had hurt them aside and acting as if it had never been in the room to start with.

She sighed softly, not out of discontent with how their discussion had gone, but as a way of resettling her emotions, of backing away from the sadness. It'd been over a hundred years since they'd laid Issac to rest, standing in that cold cemetery with Issac's wife and son. Over a hundred years and time had worn down the stone at the head of that grave, but it had done nothing to heal the pain in her heart at burying her son. She had buried so many her loved ones over the last three centuries, but it always burned the worst when it was her children.

They played the game in comfortable silence for a long while, only the 8-bit music from the speakers filling the basement. Then Puck broke the silence, answering the first question she'd asked.

"Quinn Fabray."

Brunette hair fanned out about her head as she whipped her face around to stare at him in shock. "What?"

"You asked who I'd been with." He rolled his eyes with a casual shrug. "I answered."

For a moment, Rachel just stared at him, jaw hanging loose with shock, controller slipping from her fingers to clatter to the floor.. "You _slept_ with _Quinn Fabray_?"

He paused the game again, tossing the controller aside and turning to face her. "That's what I said, Rachel. What's the problem?"

"You _slept_ with _Quinn Fabray_!" Her eyes darted about the room, looking at anything but the man across the couch from her, hands dancing about her head as she tried to comprehend what was going on. "You had _sex_ with Quinn _freaking_ Fabray, Noah! How could you!"

"She brought wine coolers. _And_ she wanted me." He smirked, well aware of the attraction he held for most girls. It helped that he'd Passed Beyond in his early twenties, even if he did pass himself off as a teenager. "Also, have you looked at that girl, Rach? She's hot as hell."

" _Yes_ , I've looked at her, Noah. And, _yes_ , she's quite attractive, but she is also Quinn freaking _Fabray_." Rachel's burning eyes snapped to him. "The head cheerleader! The _president_ of the Chastity Club, though the irony does not escape me. _The quarterback's girlfriend_! I thought he was your friend, Noah!"

"Look, okay, I feel kinda bad about the Finn thing, but come on, can you blame me? The girl was seriously throwing her self at the Puckmeister. You know you'd be all over her if she did the same to you."

"I-I... that is entirely beside the point, Noah!" Rachel fumed, not at all happy with the corner she'd been pushed into by Puck's statement. She _was_ attracted to both genders. Three hundred years was a long time to try and deny a fundamental fact about herself and she wasn't given to lying to anyone, let alone herself. She couldn't deny that Quinn was a remarkably attractive woman and that there were certain stirrings towards her that could have developed into something more if the blonde hadn't gone about things the way she had.

"Seriously, Rach. What's the problem here? You know me, I don't turn down a free roll in the hay when I'm not married. That Quinn girl was there, she was hot and she wanted me. Win win all around."

"Noah, it's _not_! It's... it's _Quinn_!" Rachel fumbled for a way to explain the sheer level of _wrong_ involved in what had happened, so tangled up she found herself at a lost for words. "She's a _Christian_! She was waiting for _marriage_! She... she _wasn't_... and what have you _done_?"

Puck's smirk fell away as he watched Rachel fall apart. He hadn't realized Rachel would be this upset over him hooking up with the cheerleader. She'd never had a problem with any of his other conquests. And, he had to admit, if he'd known he might have turned the blonde away. He wasn't _sure_ he would have, those wine coolers were pretty good after all, but it was really likely. Rachel was the first girl he'd ever fallen for after all, and she was the only one he ever had who was still around. Her opinion still counted for more than he'd readily admit and he never wanted to be responsible for putting pain in those brown eyes.

"I didn't know she was so important to you, Rach." His gaze dropped to the floor and he fiddled with the beer bottle he'd picked back up to give his hands something to do. "Seriously, I wouldn't have done anything with her if I'd known you liked her."

"What?" Rachel sputtered, now beyond flustered, things were _definitely_ not going to plan now. "I'm not... or anything! She was on my case all last year! She's responsible for all the garbage I've been going through! I do _not_ like Quinn Fabray, Noah!"

"Oh, it's like _that_ , hey?" The smirk was back, but now Rachel was feeling an inordinate desire to smack it off his smug face. "She pulled the whole hate card on you and now you're all hot and bothered."

"I am _not_! She's just a... _rival_." Rachel nodded her head definitively, brown locks swirling about her face. "A _rival_ , for... for _Finn_!"

"Finn? Seriously?" Puck's expression was decidedly disbelieving. "I love the boy like a brother from another mother, but he's a moron."

"He has perfectly acceptable leading man qualities, Noah." Rachel replied primly, catching up her beer and taking a long swig.

"If you say so." Puck gave in to her insistence on changing the subject, turning back to the game and his beer. "Still say the dude's an idiot. You'd be a lot better off chasing after Fabray. Chick is _hot_."

She didn't dignify that with a response. She knew that Finn was... less than brilliant on many subjects, but he was quite handsome and displayed an excellent level of vocal agility. And he was most certainly _not_ an aggravating, blonde who might just fill out a cheerleading uniform _remarkably_ well, but was still entirely determined to make her life at WMHS a living hell. Besides, if _Quinn_ thought she could land Finn, then Rachel would just have to prove she wasn't as hot as she thought.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

Quinn Fabray felt strange. She'd never felt this way before. It wasn't the pain of what she'd done, she'd experienced pain before, it was part of being a cheerleader, even if it was a very different part of her that was hurting. It wasn't guilt, either, that was also a familiar pang. No, Quinn felt something almost completely foreign to her.

She felt... scared.

It was a strange sensation. It wasn't like the simple fear of being dropped from the top of the pyramid or the thrill of adrenaline from being thrown. It was something more, something deeper.

It had started almost two weeks ago when she missed her period. At first she'd passed it off as being due to all the stress from the Cheerios, school, and keeping that lunkhead of a boyfriend happy. But it still hadn't come and she'd _never_ completely missed a period before. When she started feeling lethargic and spent the morning throwing up, she'd really started worrying.

She couldn't handle the rumors if she'd gone to the pharmacy in town, so she'd skipped school and driven to the next town over. She'd picked up the item she needed from the pharmacy section of the Wal-mart and paid quickly, trusting to the loose-fitting jeans and grey hoodie she was wearing to disguise her identity. She'd slipped back home to follow the directions on the box in the privacy of her bathroom while everyone was away.

Her hand trembled as she lifted the device into view. Her eyes blurred with tears and her head shook slowly back and forth. It wasn't true. It lied. This couldn't be happening.

But the strip never changed. The words on the instructions explaining what it meant never changed. No matter how she pleaded and prayed for either one to do so. She couldn't help the sobs that broke from her.

It'd only been _once_. How could she be - what would her _father_ say? He'd be so disappointed. What would _Finn_ say? He couldn't find out what she'd done. He _couldn't_. It was a lie. It had to be.

Quinn Fabray could _not_ be carrying Noah Puckerman's _child_.

* * *

School could not be worse the next day.

Not only was she _possibly_ carrying the spawn of the school's biggest horndog - there was no doubt in her mind that the test was a false positive as her appointment at the family planning clinic later that week would no doubt confirm - but she'd just heard that her _boyfriend_ had joined Homo Explosion. The damn _glee club_? The biggest group of misfits outside of the school's LARPing group? Oh no, it was not on, he was _not_ getting away with doing that to _her_.

As soon as she shoved through the heavy front doors of the school, she had one goal. Find Finn Hudson and make it very clear that he was _not_ going to be staying a part of the damn _glee club_.

* * *

Finn knew that Quinn had finally found out as soon as he saw her storming down the hall towards him. He sighed heavily and unzipped his bag, shuffling the books that he'd taken home over the weekend out and into his locker. He hadn't been looking forward to this conversation, but he knew better than to try and avoid it. The last time he'd tried something like that she'd like made him cry like a little girl. It was really embarrassing.

"Finn Hudson! _What_ do you think you're doing?" Her voice was practically poisonous as she hissed at him.

"I'm getting my books, what's it look like?" It was stupid to say that. He knew it was stupid as soon as he said it and saw her eyes narrowing in that way that said she was really not happy with him.

"Don't play dumb with me! You know what I'm talking about!" He glanced over towards Rachel's locker a few paces down the hall. He liked looking at her, she never treated him mean or yelled at him like Quinn did. He knew that Quinn saw him looking as soon as her hand smacked into his chest. "Look at me what I'm talking to you, Finn!"

He didn't quite manage to hold back the groan that threatened to escape, or the roll of his eyes. "Okay, Quinn." He reached into his locker and started pulling out the books he needed for his first couple of classes.

"We are in line to be some of the most popular kids in this school in the next couple of years." She glared at him, willing him to dispute it.

"Yeah," his gaze darted about the hall, trying to land on any place but his angry girlfriend _or_ Rachel, because he didn't want to get into even more trouble, "okay, yeah."

"Prom Queen and King, Homecoming Royalty. I am _not_ giving up those shiny crowns just so that you can _express_ yourself." Oh great, she was making even more squinty angry faces. He really didn't like those.

"You- you're making too big a deal out of this." He shook his bag, trying to get the books to settle flat.

"Okay," she smiled. That wasn't a good sign. He liked it when she smiled and all, but he always seemed to get in more trouble when she smiled after the whole squinty angry face thing. "Let's compromise." Well, that sounded good. He wasn't really sure what that last word meant, but he didn't think it meant he was in trouble. At least, he hadn't heard it before. "If _you_ quit the club, I'll let you touch my breasts."

He perked up. "Under the shirt?" Was that really too much to ask?

"Over the bra." Uh-oh, the angry squinty face was starting to come back. It was too much to ask, he knew it was. And she wanted him to give up Glee for that? It really made him feel good and he liked how the other kids weren't all pressuring him and stuff. But it was Quinn's _breasts_ and they were like really nice and stuff.

But Rachel was _really_ nice. "No." He muttered, zipping up his bag. "No, I _can't_. I wanna do Glee. I'm really happy when I'm performing." He shot her one of his favorite smiles, she usually liked that one.

"People think you're gay now, Finn." Quinn's face had fallen. He guessed that touching her breasts had stopped being an option. "And you know what that makes me? Your Big. Gay. Beard."

Oh, no. No. She did _not_ just say he was like _gay_ and stuff just because he liked being in Glee! That wasn't nice at _all_! "Look. I - I - I gotta go to class. Just relax, everything's gonna work out."

He walked off, relieved for once that she _didn't_ follow him.

Rachel watched him walk off with a troubled expression, fully aware of what had just gone on behind her. She hadn't known that there was relationship troubles between him and Quinn. That made things awkward. So long as they were together and seemingly happy, she could justify not making overt moves on the gangly youth to Puck. She wasn't a home wrecker after all. But if they _were_ having problems... that would throw a wrench into the works.

"Eavesdrop much?"

The biting tones of the blonde's voice coming from behind her almost startled her enough to let the Beast loose momentarily. Containing the bizarre mixture of apprehension and distress, she turned slowly, closing her locker as she did. So far this year, Quinn had mostly left her alone and she was rather hoping that they'd not repeat the whole awkward "accept my apology" thing again this year. Especially not after that entirely unpleasant incident in the showers.

Quinn stalked over to her, eyes dark with irritation, even though she'd been fully aware that Rachel had to have heard the entire conversation. She'd known the brunette was there. Sometimes it was like she was developing a sixth sense in regards to the irritating dwarf, always aware of where she was.

"Time for some girl talk, Manhands." Quinn smirked down at her, ignoring the small frisson of pleasure having an excuse to talk to the brunette in the halls gave her. "You can dance with him. You can sing with him. But you will _never_ have him." For the life of her, the blonde couldn't even imagine what Rachel would _want_ with Frankenteen. Even _she_ didn't know why she was with him half the time he opened his mouth.

"I understand why you'd be threatened. Finn and I have made a connection," Rachel felt the corners of her lips curling up, though she wasn't sure why, nothing about this entirely awkward conversation deserved a smile, "but I am an honorable person. I don't need to steal your man. I have plenty of suitors of my own."

The blonde smirked and leaned against the lockers, one eyebrow arching in amusement. Finally, a chance to assault those infuriating walls that surrounded the smaller girl, something that made the whole mess with Puckerman worth something. "Oh, like Puckerman?"

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, tranny." Quinn rolled her eyes, the smirk never leaving her face. "I've seen you in the halls. I know you're with him."

"Tranny. Really, Quinn, is that the best you can do?" Rachel scowled, ignoring how her eyes started to burn in their depths, but Quinn saw it and inwardly rejoiced at putting that fire there. "I would think that _you_ of all people would know how utterly _inaccurate_ that accusation is. And what do you mean by being 'with' Noah?"

"I _know_ you're not that stupid. You're _dating_ him."

Rachel barely restrained the laugh that bubbled up at Quinn's declaration. "Me? Dating _Noah_? I'm terribly sorry, Quinn, but I'm afraid you are quite mistaken. Noah and I are merely friends."

Quinn's smirk vanished. That wasn't right. That _couldn't_ be right. Rachel and Puckerman were dating, she was sure of it. She'd seen the looks they gave each other, the little touches, the way he treated her better than the other girls in the school. It was why she'd _seduced_ him! Though, in retrospect, she wouldn't say that had been the best plan she'd ever come up with.

"Don't bother lying about it, Berry. It's so obvious, it's sick. You two are pathetic saps around each other."

"Quinn, I'm being entirely honest." Rachel had finally managed to tamp down the wholly inappropriate laughter at the absurdity of the situation. "Noah and I are only friends. We have known each other for a long time and true, we were romantically entangled at one point, but we determined that we made better friends than lovers. I promise you that I am not dating Noah Puckerman."

"You are! You have to be!" She couldn't help the panic starting to lace her voice. If Rachel wasn't dating Puckerman then she hadn't done _anything_ by sleeping with him. If she wasn't with him there wasn't any _point_ and there _had_ to be a point to something that hurt that much, that could be responsible for _destroying_ her life.

Rachel looked at her oddly, not at all understanding why the cheerleader was so distressed by the fact that she was _not_ dating someone. "I'm very sorry, Quinn, but I'm _not_."

She turned slowly and walked away from the blonde staring at fixedly at her retreating back. She wasn't expecting the freezing cold of the slushie splashing her face, but by this point, she probably should have been. The sound of an angry halfback slamming the perpetrator into a set of lockers before he got more than two steps away.

"What the fuck, man?"

"The hell's your problem, Bryce?" Puck's angry growl silenced the hall, all eyes turning to stare in shock at the brown haired boy being held up by his letterman jacket against the lockers, his feet an easy foot off the ground. "What do you think you're doing throwing crap on my girl?"

"S-she's Rachel _Berry_ , Puck!" The kid kicked against the lockers, but Puck's grip never wavered. "Come on, man, let me go!"

"Yeah, I know who she is, dipshit. Now you listen to me, and you better listen good." He thrust his forearm against Bryce's chest, switching to hold him up with one arm so he could look around the hall. "In fact, all you morons better listen. You see this girl?" He pointed at Rachel with his free hand. "You lay the fuck off her or you're gonna answer to me. Understand?"

Most of the hall just babbled something agreeable sounding and dashed off. Bryce being the unlucky one being forced to hang around, Quinn standing with a smirk that just shouted "I knew I was right", Rachel with slushy slowly congealing around her feet, and Puck still holding up Bryce being the only ones to stick around. Puck slowly let Bryce slide down the lockers until his feet hit the ground but he didn't let go of the boy.

"Apologize." His words were a snarl, more animal than human, and Rachel's eyes flashed to his, silently commanding him to put a leash on his Beast. For a long moment their eyes held over Bryce's head, their inner Beasts warring against each other in the silence until Rachel gained the upper hand and forced the wolf back down. "I _said_ apologize, Bryce." The animal had faded from his words, but the anger was still there.

"I-I'm sorry, R-Rachel. Really."

"That's okay." She smiled as sweetly as she could while scraping slush from her face and clothes to plop on the ground. "You can let him go, Noah."

Puck released the boy, sending him on his way with a firm shove and a shouted reminder to stay away from the slushie machines. "You shouldn't let them do shit like that to you, Rach."

"It's alright, Noah, really." She reached out, laying a gentle hand on his upper arm in an attempt to soothe the anger away.

"You so can't deny you're dating after _that_ , Berry." Amusement was back in Quinn's voice as she sauntered over. "Puckerman."

"Fabray. Rachel, what's going on?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Somehow, the head cheerleader has managed to get it into her head that you and I are romantically entangled."

"Romantically... you mean like dating and shit?" Puck smirked. "Seriously, Fabray? Rachel and me?" He chuckled. "We're not dating."

Quinn snorted. "Like hell you're not. I have eyes you know."

"No, really." He threw an arm over Rachel's shoulders, heedless of the pale blue goop still there. "Rach is a hot ass Jew and I'll always love her," he gave the smaller girl's hair a brief mussing, "but I can't handle her kind of special crazy every day. No offense, Rach."

"None taken, Noah. You see, Quinn? I have been quite honest in saying that Noah and I are not romantically entangled."

"This is ridiculous. You're insane." Quinn finally stated, spinning on one cross-trainer clad heel and stalking off.

"The hell is her problem?"

" _You_ slept with her, Noah. You tell me."

"Will you give it a rest, Rachel? I _said_ I'm sorry!"


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

Rachel knew she must have gone pale when the three girls in their distinctive red, black and white uniforms were ushered into the choir room. She could just _feel_ the blood draining from her face. They weren't supposed to be here. Yes, she'd been foolish to change the music selection for the assembly behind Mr. Schuester's back and get the club punished as a result, but glee club was supposed to be a _refuge_ from Cheerio hounding.

It was _supposed_ to be a refuge from _her_.

* * *

Quinn didn't really bother to resist the smirk crossing her features when she saw how shocked Rachel looked at her appearance in the choir room. She enjoyed being the one that forced the over-confident little diva to show emotion beyond that overbearing arrogance she loved to shove in everyone's face. It never crossed her mind to think that Rachel's reaction could be for anyone but her. Santana and Brittany were only there for the same reason they were part of the Cheerios now; she'd asked and they had her back.

She hadn't forgotten their little spat in the hall. Far from it, she'd used the horrible feelings it'd raised in her chest to fuel the incipient tears needed to convince Coach Sylvester that the three top Cheerios _needed_ to join the glee club to "save" her boyfriend from Rachel. She didn't really care about Finn, the boy was too weak to actually consider cheating on _her_ with _Rachel Berry_.

But she _did_ care about the little brunette's hiding place. Rachel had managed to create a place where she was completely out of Quinn's reach and, frankly, that was unacceptable to the blonde cheerleader. After the appallingly provocative dance number at the afternoon assembly last week, the incident in the hallway just provided a convenient excuse to bring Rachel's little hideout into her reach.

Besides, if Rachel wanted to keep acting like she was better than her, then she'd just have to demonstrate beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was her equal, if not her obvious _better_ , in _every_ aspect. _Including_ singing and dancing. She was confident in her voice and as for dancing, well she wasn't the captain of the Cheerios for nothing.

"Everybody listen up." Mr. Schuester's warm tenor filled the quiet of the choir room, shocking everyone out of their stunned thoughts at seeing the Cheerios. "I'd like to introduce you to our newest members."

* * *

Puck hooked his thumbnail under the edge of the bottlecap and flicked it off his bottle of beer with a negligent display of strength. The little disk of metal flickered in the moonlight as it flipped away from him towards the trees across the clearing. He rested his head back against the trunk behind him with a soft sigh, gazing up at the stars barely visible through the leaves above them for a moment before taking a swig from his bottle.

He grimaced at the taste, warm beer was not his favorite thing, but neither were ice cold shorts and since he wasn't fond of the idea of planting his bare ass on the debris strewn forest floor, compromises had to be made. Besides, it wasn't like much more than a couple bottles and a pair of shorts would fit in the bag Rachel had found for him to wear in wolf form. The bag, a leather _satchel_ Rachel had called it, was loose on him in human form, but it rode snug on his back when he was wolf. The whole thing was kinda sissy, but carrying a man-purse was a small sacrifice to avoid having to walk back to town with everything hanging out. He was proud of his body and he knew he was a damn fine specimen of manliness, but that didn't mean he wanted _everyone_ to see the goods.

Hearing a familiar rustle of air above, he opened his eyes in time for his heart to jolt in his chest at the dark shape blotting out the moon and stars above him. He couldn't help the sharp shock of visceral fear that coursed through his body at the sight. He knew she wouldn't hurt him - unless he did something _really_ stupid - but the fear was instinct for both his human form _and_ his Beast at the sight of the daemon dropping from the sky towards him. It was survival instincts and he wasn't in any hurry to chase those away, not all of the Daemon he'd encountered over the years had been nearly as hospitable as Rachel. In fact, most weren't, bunch of territorial assholes.

But he hid the flinch by taking another swig from his beer and tossing the other bottle to Rachel. She snapped it out of the air with a massive paw, gripping the cap and yanking it off with a short jerk. Crumbling the cap into a tiny ball, she flicked it at the tree above his head, the force of the casual gesture sinking it a good inch deep into the hickory's trunk. She didn't bother to try and change back, she'd never get back home if she changed out here. She just folded her wings tight against her back and dropped into a loose crouch beside her friend.

"Bad night?"

She growled, baring the nearly ear-to-ear mouthful of shark-like teeth for a moment before tossing back a belt from the bottle, teeth scraping against the glass. Lowering the bottle to hang loosely from one heavily clawed hand between her legs, she reached up and scraped the back of her free hand across her mouth, wiping away a smear of mixed beer and congealing blood from her lips. She flexed her toes, digging her talons deeply into the soil beneath her feet, her powerful snake-like tail coiling lightly about her right ankle. She didn't answer, instead turning the fiery brand of her gaze to the contemplate the full moon illuminating the clearing they hid from the world in.

"That bad, hey?" Puck reached out, giving her forearm a light squeeze to catch her attention. "It's loud tonight?"

"It's always loud." Her words were distorted, her normally powerful alto muted and almost sibilant as it snaked its way out of her distorted mouth. She knew what he was talking about. It was the same thing he experienced. The Beasts that lurked within their souls. They shouted and raved, gabbled and roared. They were never silent, filling the quiet corners of their minds with their gibbering rants. The bottle dropped to the ground between her legs and her head fell into her hands, palms digging into her eyes, claws ticking lightly against the horns curling back along her skull. "I'm so _tired_ , Noah. Just Quinn and glee and... everything. It's too much."

He hesitated only a moment, battling his fears, before stretching out an arm and pulling her into his side. She let out a soft mewl and crumpled into his side, accepting the comfort he silently offered. Her hands curled into loose fists to protect him from her claws and rested lightly on his bare chest as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"You're the strongest person I know, Rach." His voice was soft, soothing as the night breeze. "If anyone can overcome this, it's you. I'd never have made it this far without you, so I know you'll get through this." He lifted her chin, looking into the brown eyes that burned from within for a moment before pressing his lips to her forehead between her horns. "I believe in you."

"Thank you, Noah." She bit her lower lip, lightly but the teeth still broke the skin sending a small rivulet of blood trickling down her chin. "I'm really glad you're here."

He smirked, giving her shoulder a squeeze through the folds of her wing. "'Course you are. Any chick would dig having the Puckzilla in their corner."

She laughed, not the sweet trill of her human laughter, but a dark and menacing sound full of rattles and chuckling roars. But it was a laugh nonetheless and his heart lifted to hear it. Sure, Rachel might terrify him in this form, but he'd do anything to keep her from being sad. He owed her his life, his _family_. Everything. But even if he owed her nothing, he'd always have her back.

She was his girl.

* * *

This was getting terribly tedious. Worse, it was _boring_ and Santana Lopez didn't _do_ boring. She groaned, letting her head rest on the edge of the bed behind her.

"How long you gonna keep bitching about the troll, Q?" The brunette grimaced at the thought of having to listen to another minute of Berry this and Manhands that. "You want in her pants so bad just corner her in the bathroom." She smirked and rolled her eyes to cast a pointed look at the blonde pacing back and forth in front of her. "Not like you have any problems with _that_."

Okay, judging by the nasty bitch face Quinn was getting on, that probably wasn't something she wanted to talk about. Girl was so in denial Santana almost couldn't help but laugh at it. It was pathetic really.

"I do _not_ want in that disgusting _thing's_ pants." Quinn's snarl was so vehement, Santana almost swore she saw flecks of spittle flying from her mouth. "That is _vile_ , Santana."

"Oh, bullshit, Q," Santana started to reply, but was stopped by the soothing sensation of long slender finger combing through her dark hair. Her eyes slipped closed with a soft sigh, allowing Brittany to calm the edge of her sudden ire.

"San's got a point, Q." The lanky blonde spoke up from where she was stretched across Quinn's bed, head propped up with her free hand while she amused herself by playing with the darker girl's hair. She didn't bother to look at the smaller blonde glaring at her, bemused blue eyes watching her pale fingers dip and weave through Santana's hair. She really liked how soft it was and she was pretty sure it smelled good too. She leaned forwards to take a deep breath, filling her nose with the scent of lilacs and almonds. Oh yeah, her lips curled into a soft smile, she really liked pretty much everything about Santana.

"She doesn't have anything of the sort, Britt." Quinn had stopped pacing and now stood with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at her two best friend's casual display of affection with a curled upper lip. "Don't be ridiculous."

Brittany's eyes finally rose from her perusal of Santana's tan skin and ebony locks to peer confusedly at Quinn. "That doesn't even make sense, Q. Everyone knows you get lady wood for Rachel." She paused, thinking about it for a moment. "Even if she does dress like a cross between a toddler and a grandmother."

Quinn took a step back, expression twisted into one of disgust, her hands spreading in denial. "What the hell, you two? That's disgusting. I'm not like you."

Santana's eyes narrowed dangerously despite Brittany's fingers in her hair. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

The smaller blonde shrugged, throwing her hands up. "You _know_ what I mean. I'm not _gay_ , okay?"

"What does that have to do with anything, Q?" Brittany asked, her fingers stilling as her eyes filled with confusion.

"Neither are _we_ , Fabray." Santana spat, reaching back to rub the taller blonde's shoulder. "Don't worry, Britt, Q's just showing off her latent homophobia."

"Her what?"

The brunette untangled the taller girl's hand from her hair and entwined their fingers, glancing back over her shoulder to meet Brittany's blue eyes with her own dark brown for a moment. "Q's just got a little problem with hating gays." Her upper lip curled with disgust as she directed her gaze back to the angry head cheerleader.

"Oh what the fuck ever, S! I'm not freaking homophobic!" Quinn hissed, glaring at the pair. "And if you're not gay, then what the hell do you call _that_?" She waved at the still entwined fingers of the other two Cheerios. "Jesus, San, if I was homophobic I wouldn't be friends with you! And I sure as hell wouldn't bother defending you from my _parents_!"

"Don't get so hung up on labels, Fabray. It just shows off your mediocrity." But she dropped Brittany's hand and pushed to her feet, missing the crestfallen look on the other blonde's face as she did. She crossed the room in two strides to get up in a shocked Quinn's face. "And if being my friend is such a damn tragedy, then don't do me any favors, 'kay?"

With that, she gave Quinn a short shove and stormed out of the room. A few moments later the sound of the front door of the Fabray residence slamming shut echoed through the otherwise empty house. Quinn caught her lower lip between her teeth, shocked out of her earlier anger with Santana's response and suddenly looking very worried.

Brittany rolled over and sat up on the bed, sliding over until her legs hung over the edge. She hated when her friends fought and she was getting the horrible feeling that it was somehow her fault this time. "Um... she didn't mean it. The not wanting to be your friend part, I mean." She fiddled with her hands in her lap for a moment.

Quinn's gaze hadn't left the door that Santana had vanished through. "I... I don't know, Britt."

Brittany shoved down the awful feelings rising up in her chest that made her want to cry. She couldn't cry now. She had to fix this. Quinn and Santana were her friends. They couldn't stop being friends. She didn't want to loose either of them.

She rose to her feet and crossed to where Quinn was still standing and looking lost. She bit her lip for a moment before deciding that a hug might fix it. Wrapping her arms around Quinn's shoulders, she pulled her into her embrace, adding a light kiss to the top of the other girl's head almost as an after thought. It always made her feel better when Santana or her mom did that to her, so she figured it couldn't hurt with Quinn.

"It'll be okay, Q. You'll see. San'll come back and it'll be okay."

Quinn swallowed back the tears shimmering in her eyes that she had no explanation for - it wasn't like Santana and her hadn't fought before - and smiled though she didn't lift her head from where it was pillowed on Brittany's chest. "I hope so, Britt."


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

If anyone had asked her, she might have let them know that the latest plan to break up New Directions really sucked. Coach Sylvester was many things, but the epitome of strategical genius was apparently not amongst her many titles. Seriously? Trying to break that obnoxious group of misfits up over their _dance routines_? She didn't honestly expect it would work, did she? Not that the routines weren't a special level of awful, but really?

Then there was the flip side of the plan. Actually talking to and being _nice_ to the persistent thorn in her side, Rachel Berry. She'd especially vicious towards the girl after her fight with Santana, not wanting to believe any of the nasty accusations her dark haired friend had fired at her that afternoon. Brittany had been right - a fact she was feeling so pathetically grateful for it was annoying - and Santana had come back after she'd cooled off. They'd apologized - more or less - and moved on. But the thought of being nice to Rachel after all that had her stomach doing flips.

"Rachel," she reached out, tapping the girl in question on the shoulder, not even noticing Santana's tiny smirk and eye roll at the ease at which the smaller girl's name fell off her lips, "we need to talk."

Rachel turned slowly, clutching her books to her chest, understandably wary of friendly tone the blonde was pushing into her voice. But if the cheerleader was going to be civil, she couldn't justify not returning the favor. "Okay. What can I do for you, Quinn?"

Quinn couldn't help the small smile at the lack of animosity in Rachel's words. There may have been a small part of her that might have wanted to answer her question with things like _please, just be my friend_ and _I don't want to fight with you any more_ , but she was Quinn Fabray and those sorts of weak thoughts were not acceptable. She had a mission to accomplish and she would see it through. Though if Santana didn't stop giving her those weird looks and smirking, she might have to slap the other cheerleader first.

"It's Mr. Schue's dance routine." At least this part had the benefit of being true. "It sucks."

"It's completely unoriginal."

"Aren't you guys going to get shunned for talking to me?" Rachel looked nervous. Quinn hated it and had to bite the inside of her cheek to remind herself where she was and keep from reaching out a hand to the other girl.

Instead she smiled as warmly as she could, though she had a terrible feeling it came off as fake and Rachel would _know_ it was if it did. She had no idea how the tiny diva always seemed to see through her when she was faking, but she couldn't deny that she did. "Sweetie, we're a _team_ now." The smile fell away. "But you've got to do something about Mr. Schue's dance routines."

"And how am I supposed to accomplish anything in regards to that? The routines are... somewhat lacking, it's true, but it's not like any of us have any real training in that regard either." She stepped forward to try and get past them. "Excuse me, I have to get to class."

"We'll walk with you."

The two cheerleaders stepped aside to allow her through then turned and caught up to the smaller brunette's quick pace. Quinn wanted to scoff and argue that they had the three best dancers in the school on the team and seriously, who else would be better suited to make a routine than the Cheerio Trio? But she had her orders, and while she might not be _afraid_ of Coach Sylvester, that didn't mean she wanted to get on her bad side.

"There are options out there, Rachel. Trained choreographers that we can hire. But really, there's only one that will help," she paused, knowing how much the smaller girl loved dramatic buildup, "Dakota Stanley."

"The man's a genius, Berry." Quinn shot a short glare over Rachel's head at the other cheerleader who just shrugged. No matter how nice she was supposed to be, Santana just could not bring herself to call the diva by her first name. Her captain was just lucky she'd dropped the nicknames for now.

"He's the best show choir choreographer in the mid-west." She was pretty sure that would sell Rachel on the idea by itself, but it couldn't hurt anything to bait the hook a bit more. "He works with Vocal Adrenaline."

"We can't take Regionals without him. He was the understudy to the Candelabra in Beauty and the Beast," Santana's eyes rolled and she couldn't help the smirk at Quinn's expense as she threw in the last selling point that the other cheerleader had insisted on. Seriously, it was ridiculous how much Quinn knew about how the midget's mind worked, "on _Broadway_."

Quinn smiled, a real one this time, as she glanced over at the brunette between them. She could almost _see_ the smaller girl's mind racing, fitting in the pieces they'd given her and building up the puzzle to see the picture they were painting. The soft chuckle of amusement had just slipped out. She hadn't realized how warm just being nice to Rachel would make her feel, even if it was all fake.

Santana rolled her eyes at how oblivious her captain was to her own actions. It wasn't like she _liked_ the dwarf or anything, but she didn't _hate_ her, she just found the other girl to be kinda annoying to be around after a while. And it was fun to tease her and see her get all riled up and feisty and stuff.

The blonde really needed to figure out what the hell she was doing with her before someone got hurt. Santana might do and say some pretty awful things to her on a pretty regular basis, but that was just for fun, she did the same to Quinn more often than not. It didn't mean she wanted her _or_ her friend to get really hurt.

She had a feeling that if Quinn was going to insist on sticking to her blind obsession with the other girl, that was just what was going to happen.

* * *

Finn took off after Rachel as soon as she stormed out of the choir room following the bell announcing the end of class. He wasn't sure what was going on, but she wasn't acting like the Rachel he'd gotten to know since joining the glee club. That Rachel might storm out sometimes and be all controlling and demanding and stuff, but she'd never been really _mean_ like she'd been to Mr. Schuester the other day.

And how could she not know that what she'd said would really hurt him? Telling him he sucked at something like that? Mr. Schuester might be kinda weird and maybe a bit sissy, but he was still a guy. She'd always been so understanding before - well, except maybe for that time in the auditorium and the whole picnic thing and stuff, but that'd just been _weird_... and hot which kinda had been the whole problem. Was this about that? Girls were just too confusing sometimes.

"Hey, wait up." He finally caught up with her power-walking down one of the courtyard walks. "You can't do this to Mr. Schuester."

"What? Make him a hero?" Rachel didn't have time for the giant man-child. She wasn't in the mood to listen to him any more now than she had been when he'd chewed her out in front of the rest of the club. "Once we hire Dakota and win Nationals, he'll thank me for it. You heard Santana, it's all about winning." Even if she wasn't sure she believed that herself.

"Since _when_?" Everyone'd always told him it was about having fun, about being in the spotlight and showing off. No one had said it was supposed to be about _winning_.

"Look," she didn't want to get to this with him. Why wouldn't he just drop it and go away before Puck saw them and started asking awkward questions about why she wasn't going after him if she was such a rival for his affections? "You have your popular clique and your football and your cliche of a blonde girlfriend," and why did pointing out _that_ seem make her more annoyed? "Glee is my one shot. If this doesn't work out, then my whole high school life will be nothing but an embarrassment."

"W-what's a cliche? Is that a bad thing?"

Again, she found herself wondering why she'd told Puck she was competing with Quinn for him. The few leading man qualities he had were being summarily drowned in the face of his overwhelming denseness. It was a strange feeling to be agreeing with Puck about something they'd been arguing about only a handful of weeks previously.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" His massive paw landed on her upper arm, slowing her enough so he could get in front of her and make her stop altogether. "Is this one of those chick things were you're... you're pissed about one thing but you're just _pretending_ that your pissed about something else, cause..."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He felt weird about this whole thing. She kept giving him mixed signals and it was getting really confusing. "Well, for a while there you were kinda all over me, and... now you just yell at me all the time." His mom had always told him that girls liked it when guys were honest with them and shared what they were feeling and stuff, so he figured it couldn't hurt. "Makes me think you're still upset about what happened in the auditorium."

Seriously? _That_ was what he thought this was about? It was stupid, but it had only confirmed exactly what she'd previously believed. "I'm not." She dodged around him and headed off down the path. "I've moved on and I'm focusing on my career now."

"Do you wanna... talk about it?" Girls liked talking, right? He could do that if it'd make Rachel go back to being like she was.

"No. And neither do you." A basic denial never worked with guys. She turned around, giving him her best exasperated look as she spoke. "It's kind of ironic how your Mr. Popular and I'm just this nobody that everybody makes fun of," she spotted Puck coming out of a side hall behind Finn with a smirk when he spotted the pair and panicked a bit, taking the conversation in a direction she'd really not intended, "but I have enough confidence to say that what happened between us in the auditorium was real. You have feelings for me and you just don't have the guts to admit it."

She saw Puck's thumbs up and smug smirk and knew he'd heard every word. It was like getting hit in the stomach when she realized what she was doing to the gangly boy in front of her. She wasn't lying, she did know he had feelings for her - everything he did around her gave it away - but she hadn't wanted to encourage those feelings.

"We're hiring Dakota Stanley." She'd turned and walked away again, hoping that he'd let it drop.

"Even if it means me quitting?"

If she'd been human, she might not have heard him, but she wasn't and it sounded like he was right beside her when he spoke. She didn't want to get into it. She didn't want to encourage him. And she wouldn't lie to herself and say she wasn't enjoying the relatively pleasant comradery that was occurring between glee's Cheerio Trio and herself while this whole Dakota Stanley thing was going on. But she also wouldn't lie and say she believed the behaviour would last.

But she really didn't want to lead him on.

"Yes."

* * *

The Dakota Stanley plan was a failure. And seriously, the man was smaller than Streisand. How was anyone supposed to take him seriously when even Wheels almost had to look down at him to look him in the eyes? He was like some kind of bizarre yapping chihuahua of a man.

But worse than that, from Sue Sylvester's point of view, he had utterly failed at demoralizing the ragtag band of Little Orphan Annie wannabes that were negatively affecting her Cheerios' budget. That was simply unacceptable. It had taken her years to build the Cheerios into the powerhouse they were and she was not about to allow anything to stand in the way of her complete domination of the school and everything it stood for.

She was getting tired of having to rebuild her base every fifty years or so. Science needed to hurry up and successfully develop the technology to clone humans and do brain transplants so she'd have a viable excuse to remain long enough to really solidify her hold on any one area. Lima was optimal so far, but there was only thirty more years left before she'd no longer be able to convince them that her unchanging countenance was the result of amazing genetics and possibly human sacrifice.

But now there was the distinct scent of one of the Daemon in the air. It wasn't Schuester and his overly vigorous use of hair product, the man was entirely too ineffectual. But it definitely had something to do with the band of misfits he lead about like some wooden pied piper. Glee club was standing in her way, a Daemon had apparently decided to claim Lima as its territory, and now her Cheerios were becoming tainted by the fumes of Schuester's hair spray in that bizarre little club of his and starting to be as ineffectual as him. And the pride of her little cult, her shining blonde captain, was starting to _mock her_. To her _face_.

It was seriously beginning to annoy her.

* * *

"Santana!" Quinn found herself having to run to catch up to the other girl. "Sananta, wait!"

Once around the corner from the hall Coach Sylvester's office was on, the brunette had stopped, leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around her stomach, her entire body shaking. Quinn slowed as she came around the corner and saw her, her steps becoming hesitant and her lower lip catching between her teeth. She'd never seen the girl so upset, and really over something as trivial as _tanning privileges_?

She reached out and laid a hesitant hand on the shuddering girl's shoulder. "San, are you okay? It's really not a big deal..."

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" The words were choked, but Santana didn't raise her face to where Quinn could see it.

"It's just tanning privileges and it's only for the rest of the semester, San..." Quinn was getting worried and glanced around the hall opening that Brittany would pop up from somewhere. She wasn't nearly as good at dealing with a suddenly emotional Santana as the leggy blonde was.

Santana's head shot up, cheeks marked with tears but eyes wide with disbelief and a bizarre smirk on her lips. "You're joking, right? You think I'm _upset_ about that crap?"

Quinn's hand fell from the other's girl's shoulder and she took a confused step back. "You're... not?"

"Hell, no." She scoffed, giving a shrug and crossing her arms across her chest after wiping the traces of tears from her face. "Why the hell do you think I would be upset over losing _tanning_ privileges, Q?"

"Have you seen yourself? You were kinda bawling."

The brunette couldn't help the laugh that spilled from her lips, a fresh set of tears trickling from her tightly squeezed eyes. "Really? That's your reason? I wasn't bawling, Q. I was trying not to laugh in Sylvester's face."

"Okay, I'm confused." Quinn's expression fell into the familiar lines of stony indifference as she crossed her arms across her chest, waiting for an explanation.

Santana smirked, waving a hand up and down her body. "Have you seen me? I'm not just smoking hot, I'm a smoking hot _Latina_. You're the pale ass white girl who needs a tanning bed to reach my levels of blistering hotness, not me."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "You did not just call me a 'pale ass white girl'."

"I'm only calling them as I see them, Q. You're so white you practically glow in the dark. But don't worry," she stepped forward, tossing an arm around the taller girl's waist, "I won't hold it against you."

Quinn tried to resist the smile teasing at her lips, but it broke through. The gleeful peals of laughter from the pair filled the empty hall as they headed out of the school, arms wrapped about each other in mutual support.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

She sat in her car staring at the pale brown doors as if they held the secrets of the heavens. She felt numb, like she'd never felt anything before in her short life and never would again. Once she walked through those doors she'd have to accept whatever answers she was given and she didn't know if she was ready to deal with that.

The clinic was in the next town over, she'd driven a good forty-five minutes to get there, not wanting to risk running into anyone who might recognize her in Lima. Just looking up the directions had made her heart race painfully fast and her eyes cloud with tears. She didn't want to have to do this, didn't want to hide. But mostly she didn't want to be pregnant.

She hoped so much that the first test had been a false positive. She'd heard they happened. That had to be what it was. Just a mistake. If it was a mistake everything else could be explained. She was under a lot of stress lately. Things like being tired all the time or feeling sick, they just made sense when you were under as much stress as she was, right?

She swallowed harshly against the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She was only _sixteen_. She wasn't supposed to be dealing with things like this. She was supposed to be married and _happy_ before she had to even _think_ about maternity clothes and midnight cravings. She was supposed to have her perfect guy with her, holding her hand and calming her down when she freaked out.

She took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue and pushed the door open, stepping out. The air felt impossibly clear as she breathed in again, gathering her courage for the walk across the nearly empty parking lot. Suddenly, she felt that she understood what prisoners on death row felt while making that final walk to the execution chamber as she slowly made her way across the broken asphalt.

The doors swung shut behind her with a soft click. A poignant reminder of the day that had started her life rapidly spinning out of control. Nothing ever went as she'd planned.

This was no exception.

* * *

The next few days were a special kind of hell.

Everyday she raced home at lunch to intercept the mail before her mom could get it. Luckily, she'd been able to pay the bill for the test at the clinic, but they'd insisted on mailing the results to her home instead of agreeing to call her on her cellphone like she'd asked. Like she'd practically begged them to do.

She couldn't let her parents find out. They were very devout Christians, even if they did frequently over-indulge in alcohol, and she'd been witness to their, _especially_ her father's, views on such things as teen pregnancy and unwed mothers. She'd heard her father tearing into the poor women on the news, lambasting for their choices, verbally tearing them apart in the sanctity of his home where they couldn't defend themselves. All the while never a sour word for the men undoubtebly equally responsible for the situation.

It was how her father was. He was very fixed in his ways, very _traditional_. A girl was to be the pride of her father's eye, always composed, always _perfect_ , until an upstanding young man swept her away to a new home, a new life and the joys of wife and motherhood.

She'd always known that no matter what she'd wanted to do with her life, if her father had his way she'd be married soon after high school and providing him with grandchildren, preferably boys, and a strapping young son-in-law. She'd be allowed to attend college if that was what she wanted, but he'd have the final say on which one she'd be allowed to attend and she'd never be able to do anything with any degree she might achieve. She'd be far to busy with her new family to have time for such frivolous as a career or a life outside of her home. Just like her mother.

It was why she'd worked so hard. Why she'd struggled and maintained a perfect 4.0 average. Why she'd pushed herself into the captaincy of the Cheerios. Because she wanted a way out that _he_ couldn't control. She needed the scholarships perfect grades and cheerleading had the potential to give her. She _needed_ those doors to be open when the time came. She _needed_ to be able to escape Lima and her father.

She could never be her mother. Never hide herself in the soothing burn of daily gin and tonics, drinking until the pain of burying herself in the smothering grasp of a domineering man blurred into comfortable oblivion. Never twist at her child's affections, trying to desperately to mold them into a miniature copy of their parents just to make her husband happy. Never give in to everything the man demanded just to keep the peace, even if it meant leaving her children behind.

That was why her hands shook when she opened the mailbox. That was why her breathe caught in her throat, hitching on her heart where it lodged as it surged from its normal place in her chest when she saw the plain business sized envelope with her name printed in neat black type sitting on top of a catalogue from Fingerhut. That was why she felt the brief surge of panic as she fumbled it from its place and into her bag before climbing back into her car and driving off.

She had to know. But she didn't want it to be true. It _couldn't_ be true.

If it was true, she'd never escape.

* * *

She drove to the park.

She wasn't really sure _why_ she did and she found herself idly wondering about it as she sat on the black rubber seat of one of the swings. Her bare thighs suck slightly to the rubber, surprisingly a bit warm from the mid-fall sun. The envelope hung limply from her grasp, hazel eyes fixed unwavering on the plain paper but not seeing it as she lightly kicked at the woodchips on the ground, setting the swing to gently rock.

She didn't know how long she sat there, lost in her thoughts, putting off the moment that would change everything. The sky was clear, barely any clouds marking the bright blue, and the ones that were there were the gentle fluffy kind, like something in a children's cartoon. The sun was gentle on her shoulders. The breeze rustling through the red, orange and yellow leaves on the trees sending the few leaves it'd plucked from their places to dance about her legs.

It was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. It shouldn't be. She wanted it to be dark. She wanted rain to crash down from the skies. Heavy, ominous clouds to cluster above her and slash the skies with lightening, crash the silence with thunder. She didn't want to hear birds singing, children playing. It shouldn't be beautiful when everything was crashing down around her.

Finally, with trembling fingers she twisted the corner of the envelope, fumbling for a moment before she could get a finger under the flap, jerking upwards with awkward movements to tear it open. The stiff edge of the letter inside cut her finger, making her hiss at the sting. For a moment she just sat there, staring in shocked disbelief at the blood welling up on her finger tip before popping it in her mouth. Finally something felt right, getting a paper cut from something that wanted to destroy her felt right to the turmoil rocking her. It felt right that it should make her bleed, a outward manifestation of the way her future was bleeding away before her eyes.

The few of sheets of paper the envelope contained seemed far heavier than they should be, even though the breeze gusting through the park caught the edges and made them ripple and curl in her grasp. Much of what was in it incomprehensible to her and she started to realize why the receptionist at the clinic had urged her to return for the results, to let a doctor explain them. But she hadn't thought she'd be able to walk through those doors again, hear them close behind her with that soft finality again, so she'd insisted on having them be mailed to her.

It was confusing, listing all of the different chemicals found in her blood in their various amounts. Her roving gaze caught a mention that she was clear of STDs and she felt a hysterical laugh bubble up through her lips at the strange relief she felt that she hadn't gotten slapped with anything really _permanent_. But then the most important line seemed to jump out at her, almost as if it was impatient with how long it was taking her to get to it.

The papers fell from her nerveless hands, fluttering to the ground only to be lifted by the curious breeze and sent tumbling away in a cheerful scatter across the grass. Her eyes never lifted from where the papers had been, her mouth working slowly, words forming but no breath gave them life. Her shoulders slowly fell from the straight, confident pose she'd always carried herself in, her head slowly falling to her hands, the tears suddenly ripping themselves from her body pooling in her palms and trickling down her arms. The chains of the swing rattled as her thin body shook.

She was right. She'd never escape. The letter had changed everything.

 _Everything_.

* * *

She stood at her open locker, trying to breath through the sudden panic attack that'd struck moment before at the thought of telling Finn. Calming herself, she reached in for the folder and notebook she needed for her next class. She knew she couldn't avoid him forever, and it was Finn, he'd stand by her. She knew he would. He was a big, dopey idiot of a boyfriend, but he was loyal like a puppy and dumb enough to believe anything.

It was just going to be so _hard_.

"Quinn!"

She turned away. She wasn't ready to deal with him yet. Wasn't ready for _anything_.

"Quinn," she tried to hurry off, to get away before he could stop her, but she knew she couldn't run forever, "hey, what's with the silent treatment?"

He caught up to her by the trophy case. "Whatever I did," his face was falling as he looked at her and it just _hurt_ to know she was going to lie to him, "I'm sorry."

She knew he didn't deserve it, didn't deserve to have to deal with _her_ , but she needed him. She just needed _someone_ to be there for her. Needed it _so_ much that she was willing to compound her sins with lies. "I'm pregnant."

She saw the shock on his face, the disbelief, and hurried to try and say something, _anything_ to make that horrible look go away. "I just didn't know and I didn't want to go by myself and I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." She could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks and she hated them. She hated the way she felt, so lost and confused and _alone_.

"M-mine?" He sounded shocked, she didn't blame him.

"Yes, you." She swallowed against her tears, smiling and trying desperately to convince him that the lie was the truth. "Who else's would it be?"

"But we... we never..." Of all the times for the boy to grow a brain. She scrambled for something he could believe, no matter how idiotic, if it was remotely plausible she could make him buy it. She needed him to buy it.

"Last month?" Her voice was rough with the tears she still wanted to cry, "Hot tub?"

"But we were wearing our swimsuits!" This was ridiculous. If she wasn't so damn upset, she'd laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation.

"They say a hot tub is the perfect temperature for sperm... it," she started the lie, but coming up with something remotely believable in this situation on the fly was shaking her acting abilities, "it makes it swim faster or..." She glanced up in time to see him start to hyperventilate.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god." His eyes darted about the hall, his whole body twisting as he tried to process everything. Suddenly, his eyes jumped to her. "Wait, are you gonna get a..." he trailed off.

She shook her head, fighting back a new rush of tears at the thought. She might be an adultress, a liar, and a soon-to-been unwed teenage mother, but she was _not_ a baby killer. "No." The word had to be forced out. "I _really_ thought I had a shot at getting out of here."

She stepped to him, willing him to believe him, to wrap his arms around her and hold her and tell her it would be okay as she cried. She didn't love him. She knew she didn't. But she needed him so very much.

* * *

She never felt as alone in her life as she did after reading that dreadful letter. Even when she was in Finn's embrace, she felt alone. Walking down the halls at school was a horrid exercise in torment. She could feel their eyes looking at her, hear the laughs that would echo around her after they found out. She'd loose everything when it came out, and she hated it.

She just felt so lost and alone. Finn couldn't help with that, though she admitted it was sweet how he tried. It just wasn't his child and there were some things that she felt only the real father could help her understand and cope with. And there was no way she would tell Puckerman.

"'S up, MILF."

Her heart stopped. He knew? He _knew_! He couldn't know! How _could_ he know? Her icy facade didn't falter at the turmoil suddenly raging behind it and she side stepped him, giving him barely a glance as she passed. "Leave me alone."

"Who's the daddy?" She could feel him beside her, almost feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I should think it's kinda weird if it's Finn's since you told me you were a _virgin_ when we did it. And I know for a _fact_ that you didn't do it with him."

She blinked back a rush of tears and smirked. "How can you be so sure?"

He shifted his weight and smirked back. "Finn's my boy. He would have _told_ me."

"You make a habit," she couldn't help the bite in her words, she wanted to hurt him for what he'd done to her, "of sleeping with your boys' girlfriends?" She turned away, done with the conversation.

"Well, call the Vatican! We've got ourselves another immaculate conception!" Her hands grabbed him before he could get the last word out and she dragged him into the side hall. "I'd take care of it, you know. You too. I'm _not_ a deadbeat."

"Weren't you _fired_ for peeing in the fast food fryalator?" She was going to cry and she hated that. This wasn't his _problem_. He wasn't involved. She didn't _want_ him involved. He'd done _enough_.

"I've got my pool cleaning business."

"We live in _Ohio_." His face fell and she _knew_ she was hurting him, but he _deserved_ it and she just wanted to twist the knife, to make him know how _she_ felt because he was too damn stupid or too damn drunk to use a condom. "I had sex with you because you got me drunk on wine coolers and I felt fat that day."

"They were _your_ wine coolers." The excuse was weak and he knew it.

"It was a _mistake_. You're just another Lima loser like everyone else here." She stormed off down the hall, not giving him the chance to try and change her mind.

She never saw Rachel step around the corner, watching her run from Puck. And Puck, watching her run off, never saw the way the small brunette's face furrowed with anger at what she'd heard for a moment before she'd turned on her heel and stormed off back the way she'd came. A moment later, Puck's phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket, clicking over to read the new text that had come in.

**Meet me at the clearing tonight.**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

He sat against the hickory tree again, the hole where she'd flicked a crumpled bottle cap into it just above his head once more. It'd taken longer to get there in his human form, but Rachel'd never asked to meet him somewhere else than their usual place when they wanted to hunt together, so he figured she wanted to talk. And, while his wolf form was faster - and _warmer_ , he thought, rubbing his arms against the chill in the air - the more _em_ pathic than telepathic form of communication afforded in that form didn't exactly lend itself to conversation.

He pulled on his beer, wondering what she wanted to talk about. For a brief - _terrifying_ \- moment, he thought she'd found out about Quinn. About the _baby_. But he'd dismissed it. It wasn't something she'd send a text message about and then actually wait over. This was _Rachel_. It was probably something silly about getting him to join her little singing club or something. He smirked, confident that he'd figured it out - of course, he'd join if she asked, it might be social suicide, but he was the Puckster and besides, he'd do anything for the feisty brunette - and took another pull from the bottle in his hand.

The smirk fell away when he caught a flicker of movement on the far side of the clearing, the one closest to Rachel's house. There it was again. He set the bottle aside and straightened, pulling his legs under him to help him get up.

She burst into the clearing in mid-transformation. It wasn't the painfully slow change of grinding bones and writhing muscles, but a rage fueled explosion from one form to the next. She hadn't expected to change, she had to have come straight from school, caught helpless as the Beast's rage slipped from her control.

Her delicate human hands shredded in a spray of crimson, the elongated bones and heavy white claws of the daemon ripping through the skin to gleam white and shimmering crimson lines in the moonlight for a second before the muscles rippled across like bloody worms, skin following like a flowing blanket, reforming into the monstrous paws of the Beast. Her arms lengthened abruptly, skin tearing with a wet, shuddering sound, the sleeves of her shirt tattering to hang in shreds from her shoulders like a bizarre set of epaulets. Her feet changed mid-step, swelling her shoes until the massive talons burst free of the leather, bone stark against the grass of the clearing as she stepped out of the tattered remains of leather. Her legs twisted, lengthening and bending until she walked with two extra joints flexing with every step, shreds of her white knee socks clinging to her calves.

Her horns erupted from her forehead in a sanguine spray, cruelly curling back to cup her skull, leaving ropes of blood spilling across her features like a macabre mask. Her jaw broke and lengthened mid-shriek of fury, human teeth erupting from her mouth to make way for the rows of shark-like incisors as her cheeks ripped open to accommodate the suddenly oversized jaw and extra teeth. Her cheeks sunk, nose splitting , the bones standing out in stark relief as her eyes ignited, flames darting out of the sockets to lick at her flesh, sizzling and scorching.

Her torso thinned and stretched, ribs popping audibly through her flesh with a horrible sound - even across the clearing - as they moved to accommodate the larger lungs required to sustain her in flight. The remains of her shirt were barely enough to contain her modesty after her wings burst from her back and torn through the layers of fabric holding them back, flaring outwards to their full extent accompanied by a shower of gore as they snapped into full extension.

She screamed at the agony as her body twisted, shrieked and raved at the pain, the ground around her darkened with her own blood, but still she advanced inexorably across the clearing towards him. He scrambled to his feet, not wanting to be sitting when she reached him. He'd only seen her this angry a few times and never had it been directed at _him_.

" **What have you _done_?** " Her voice ripped out of her like a banshee's shriek, wild and agonized, terrible to hear.

Suddenly he understood his Beast's fear, understood why he always wanted to run from the bloody vision suddenly presented before him in the tattered remains of the clothing of the woman he'd loved enough to live for after dying. He _understood_ why the Daemon were feared, _understood_ why Rachel had cautioned him about them. _Understood_ that she was a living embodiment of _vengeance_.

The change complete, she'd gathered speed, hurtling towards him, the whistling screech of a daemon's hunting cry ripping from the depths of her being. His Beast gibbered within him in terror at the sight, wrenching control away long enough to start the shift, to change, to _escape_. He panicked at the first familiar feelings of shift spreading over him, she'd never listen to him if he went wolf. She'd never stop, never let him apologize, if he shifted now. Never let him _explain_. He'd _die_ before he had the _chance_.

He _couldn't_ change! He screamed at his Beast, raged in fear at the changes coming over him. He needed his _hands_ to have even a _chance_ at stopping her! He needed his _voice_ , his _words_! The Beast couldn't take them, couldn't make him die as a _dog_ , not _now_! He threw his will, his fear, everything he had at the Beast, denying the change, denying the Beast. Pleading, willing, hoping and _praying_ to a God he'd denied since he'd buried his son that it'd be enough.

Something was different. The change was strange. He knew it washed over him, felt the agony of breaking and reforming into something different, multiplied in intensity by the speed at which it occurred.

Then she reached him and lashed out in fury with a fierce paw, striking at him with such force that if he'd stayed in human form he'd have died instantly. He didn't know what made him do it - some instinct from his human side maybe - but he'd thrown up a paw in defense. Eyes squeezed shut, he'd waited for the searing anguish of her claws sinking into his flesh, for the blinding darkness of the Veil settling over him a second and final time.

A moment later, the pain never having arrived, he allowed his eyes to flutter open. There, mere inches from his head, a massive, black furred hand gripped her forearm, somehow holding her back despite the odds. Disbelieving brown eyes slipped down the powerful arm attached to the hand, saw the rags of a shirt that looked suspiciously like his hanging from the shoulder. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. He'd never achieved any form but the wolf and his human badass self before. It wasn't possible.

His eyes met hers and he suddenly realized that he was shaking with how much effort it was taking to keep her hands from his body. Maybe he'd never pulled it off before because no one had _really_ been trying to kill him before. Maybe it was because it was _Rachel_ , _his_ Rachel, furiously angry.

"Rachel! Rach," He was amazed that he could speak. He'd never been able to speak! But his amazement cost him some of the hard-won space and he threw his attention back where it belonged. Staying _alive_ long enough to find out why she was so furious, to _explain_. "wait! Wait! What's wrong?"

Her arm vanished from his grip like it'd never been there. He felt the fist crush into his abdomen, lifting him bodily into the air before sending him hurtling back into the tree. He crashed into the rough bark, feeling it rip his skin under his fur, hearing the crack as the wood strained against the force that struck it and failed. His body whipped back, his head cracking painfully into the unforgiving trunk, ears going flat against his canid skull and his lips curling up to bare the mouthful of wolf-like fangs filling his elongated jaw at the bright sparkles of pain shooting behind his eyes.

"What's _wrong_? **What's _wrong_**?" She stalked towards him, fury still blackening the skin around her eyes, her normally impressive vocabulary sent into hiding by her rage. " **You knocked up _Quinn Fabray_ , you insensitive ignorant _asshole_! That's what's fucking _wrong_!"**

She knew.

He didn't know how or why, but she _knew_. He felt the air leave him, slipping away to ostracize him in an airless bubble of self-loathing and disgust. Rachel _knew_. And he knew that he'd failed. That he'd failed _both_ of them with one _stupid_ , drunken _mistake_.

When he felt her claws sink into his chest in lieu of a shirt to grab, he didn't resist. Nor did he resist when she shook him, slamming him repeatedly into the tree. He deserved it. Deserved the pain, the blood running in rivulets down his chest, soaking into the remaining tatters of his clothing, caking into his fur. He'd never felt as low as he did knowing he hadn't lived up to Rachel's standards, knowing he let her down.

The situation with Quinn hurt in a different way. She wouldn't let her be there for _their_ child. He'd not had another child since Issac. He _wanted_ to be there for her, for his child. He'd marry her if that's what it took, stop fooling around. He was a good guy. But she didn't want _him_.

"It was an accident, Rach." his voice was low, rough with the growl of the Beast that still screamed to flee, "I _swear_. I - I didn't even know I _could_ any more."

"What kind of excuse is that?" She slammed him into the tree with enough force to break limbs free higher up and send them crashing down around them. "It doesn't _matter_ if it was an accident or not! You _impregnated_ Quinn! _You_ did! _You_!"

That did it. His head snapped up, glaring into her eyes. His hands snapped around her wrists and ripped her hands from his flesh, bodily shoving her away from him. He wouldn't have been able to if she wasn't so much lighter in daemon form to allow her to fly, if she hadn't _let_ him. He wasn't ready to give up and die just yet. He had a _child_ to protect, whether Quinn wanted to let him or not.

"Yeah, I did!" His lips curled in a vicious snarl as he spoke. "I _did_ and _she doesn't want me_!"

"How _could_ you, Noah? How could you! I _trusted_ you to know better, to _be_ better!" Her voice trembled, the strange harmonics of the daemon distorting her words, mangling them to the point he could barely understand. But he knew. He understood, even if she didn't, and his shock was what let her grip his shoulders and fling him across the clearing. "How could you take something so _precious_ from her and not even care enough to be _safe_?"

She'd stopped coming after him. Hitting another tree - and knocking that one over - really hurt, but she'd stopped. She was getting control of the Beast and he'd never felt so incredibly grateful for her insanely stubborn will before.

"I was drunk."

"That's not an excuse. That's _not_ an excuse!" For a second, he thought she'd attack him again, but she restrained herself. "She deserved _better_ , Noah. She deserved someone who _cared_." Her voice dropped so low and he almost didn't hear her, even with his sensitive ears pricked towards her. "Not _you_."

It hurt. It hurt more than he'd ever known - more than he _could_ know - hearing the pain in her voice. He'd thought he couldn't feel lower than he did right than, but as he crept closer and saw the tell-tale glistening on her cheeks, he knew he'd been wrong.

He battled his fear, fought the Beast cowering inside him that said to run while she was distracted by her own pain. He stood on shaky legs and stumbled towards her. Walking hurt from all the bruises on his back, the holes in his chest from her claws burned, and he was pretty sure he'd broken at _least_ two ribs, probably more, but he kept going. He couldn't let her down any more.

Trembling arms reached out, terrified that she'd lash out again, knowing he wouldn't resist anymore if she tried to kill him again, a small part of him _wanting_ her to. His breath hissed out between his teeth as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her to his chest. She shuddered and choked on her sobs as he held her, claws raking down his chest and drawing more blood in their wake, but he didn't let go.

"She _never_ deserved you." She whispered into his chest fur. "She doesn't deserve _any_ of this."

"I know. I know, Rach." His voice was almost as broken as hers as he tried so desperately to comfort her. He hadn't known. Hadn't realized how important the blonde was to his girl. He d been blind and he felt so damn _stupid_. "I didn't know you love her, Rach, I swear. I didn't know."

"I don't." Her eyes met his, willing him to see her conviction.

"Bullshit, Rachel." He tried smiling, but doubted it looked as good as in his human form. "I know you."

"I _don't_ , I just..."

"You love her. Just accept it."

"I can't." Rachel pushed away, not willing to accept his bloodstained comfort any longer. "I've been down that road before, and I'm not interested in chasing after a straight girl again." She glanced over at him. "You need medical care, see that you receive it." She stepped to the middle of the clearing, wings unfurled to carry her into the air, but gave him one last look over her shoulder. "Be there for her, Noah, or I swear tonight will seem like a pleasant walk in the park." A brief hesitation. "Let me know if you need financial support."

Then she was gone with a mighty blast of air from those powerful wings scooping down and flinging her into the air. In moments, she was just another patch of darkness in the starless sky. He slumped to his knees, a hand to his chest. He'd have a hell of a time explaining the injuries to his grandchildren, but wounds from Rachel's claws never healed like regular injuries did when he shifted between forms.

He focused on that, because he had no idea how to make Quinn let him be there for her like Rachel was insisting.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

A couple of days after the surprising last second win - the only one so far that year - and the incredibly awful feeling of watching Quinn suck face on the sidelines with Finn, Puck harassed the other two guys on the team that had half decent singing voices into joining the glee club with him. He hadn't planned on doing it, and if someone had asked him if he would a week earlier, he would have introduced them to the joys of riding in a port-a-john rolling down a hill. But when he'd looked up into the bleachers and seen chocolate eyes watching the same scene with quiet pain, he'd known he'd do anything to try and make some of it go away.

Which was why he found himself strolling into the choir room at the next glee club practice accompanied by Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford. The wounds on his chest still burned, but he couldn't help the shy smile that curled his lips when he glanced up and saw Rachel's pleased grin. Their turn at being more than friends had come and gone hundreds of years ago, but she'd always be the first person he turned to, always be girl who'd taught him what love was. He loved to see her smile.

Two weeks later, that smile was gone from the choir room and so was she.

* * *

Rachel sat on the desk, staring down, lost in her thoughts after ben Israel and that nasty man Mr. Ryerson left. She'd left the glee club to devote herself to the fall musical. It wasn't like anyone there wanted her. And staying so close to Quinn after being forced to face her feelings about the blonde the other night with Puck just hurt too much.

So she'd quit. She just couldn't figure out why it hurt so much. It was just a school club, nothing important. She'd been in dozens over the years. So why did leaving them behind hurt?

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Finn's voice broke her out of her introspection, and she jerked to her feet. "N-nothing, I... um," she sighed, Finn was about the last person she wanted to talk to right then. The only one who might be worse would have been Quinn, but the cheerleader had seemingly stopped trying to corner her in odd places lately. "Just getting the star treatment I didn't get in glee."

It was a final statement, meant to make him turn around and walk away. She should have known he'd be too dense to catch on. "Totally."

She resisted rolling her eyes and tried again. "It's times like this where I know I've chose the right _path_ ," was he seriously smiling like some sort of bizarre puppy? She decided to head him off at the pass, "I'm never going back glee. Clearly my talent is too big for an ensemble."

He shrugged. "Not gonna get an argument from me." Okay, that was unexpected. She knew he wasn't trying reverse psychology on her - mainly because she was pretty sure he didn't know what psychology was. And she had doubts about the reverse part as well.

"I'm not?"

"No." He actually sounded _amused_. "You're like the most talented person I know. Even more than that guy at the mall who can juggle _chainsaws_."

The more he talked, the more confused she became. Was this even going somewhere?

"I just wanted to let you know," ah, now they were getting somewhere, "that if you need someone to run lines with, I'm available."

This wasn't happening. This was _beyond_ not happening. Yes, there had been that mistake in the auditorium where she'd attempted to transfer her feelings from his girlfriend to him, but that had been a distinctly low part of her experience. Was he actually _flirting_ with her? She might be rusty, but she had _distinct_ memories of flirting. Only one way to find out.

"T-there is a lot of dialogue."

"Figured we could go somewhere quiet," he rose to his feet, looming over her, "maybe with low lighting..."

No. How _dare_ he? She had to fight to wrestle her Beast back into its prison when it raged to get out and wreak vengeance in the name of a certain head cheerleader. Her _boyfriend_ whom she had chosen to be the _father_ of her _child_ \- even if it wasn't his - was _actually_ trying a pathetic attempt at _hooking up_ with the girl she'd treated as her worst enemy for the last year.

"Let me know." He turned at walked away, proud of himself for what he considered a charming and subtle flirtation, completely unaware at how close he'd come to dying in an exceptionally nasty scene.

Rachel barely confined the Beast with a promise of stalking down an abusive husband who'd put his wife in the hospital with broken bones and a ruptured lung. She was so furious at what Finn was trying to pull with her that she knew she'd not be able to hide the man's death.

* * *

It was the stress. She knew it was. Ryerson wasn't anything to cry over, even if he did scream and rage in a manner almost terrifyingly similar to her birth father's.

Still, she found her self angrily wiping away tears in the girl's bathroom about five minutes after his latest tirade. Which is how she found herself in a bathroom with the decrepit human crone that Schuester had brought in to take her place. It figured that the only person he could find with the musical chops to replace her looked like she'd gone twenty rounds with an alcoholic kangaroo.

"Aw, rough day at the office, cookie?" Just what she needed. Pity. Yay.

"I've just got a lot on my plate. It's not easy being in the spotlight. It's the difficult road I've chosen." She refused, utterly _refused_ to give that horrid Rhodes woman even the slightest satisfaction in seeing her break down.

"I know that song, sister. Um," the older blonde looked about furtively, "do you have any Nyquil? I could use a little pick me up."

Rachel was disgusted. Drug use. At _her_ school. She shook her head in denial.

"No?" April's voice was soft. "These high school boys are a lot hotter than they used to be. That Finn Hudson is one cutie pie I gots my eye on."

No, absolutely not. _Finn_ might be stupid enough to try flirting with Rachel, but she was not about to let him be ensnared by this blonde harridan. She would _not_ allow him to hurt Quinn in that manner. "Finn's _taken_ , April."

"Well, some guys like a little somethin' somethin' on the side." The woman smirked at her reflection.

That was it. Rachel had to say _something_ before the Beast decided to take matters into its teeth. "I think your behaviour is totally inappropriate and your presence in this school is a complete travesty. What you choose to do with your life is your _own_ business, but don't go around screwing up everyone else's."

"I'm not afraid of you, sweetie."

Rachel smirked, suddenly grateful was a notorious drunk. She allowed enough of the Beast up to show in her face, her face twisting into the harshly skeletal planes of the Beast inside of her, her eyes glowing with internal fire and her mouth filling with hundreds of razor sharp teeth. "Are you quite _sure_ about that," her lips twisted up into a teeth baring grimace that only the most extremely charitable would call a smile, "April?"

The blonde stumbled back at the sight, horror etched on every line of her face. "W-what the hell?"

"Listen to me and listen _well_ , because I do _not_ give second chances." Rachel growled, her voice hissing sibilantly through her teeth and rough with the multi-tiered harmonics of the Beast. "You stay _away_ from Finn Hudson. He is _taken_. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, ma'am. Yes. Oh god. Oh god, _please_ don't hurt me." A sharply acidic tang tainted the air, the blonde cringing against the wall by the door. " _Please_."

With an effort, Rachel pulled the Beast back in, her features reverting to Rachel Berry's pleasant countenance. "Then I'm glad we understand each other, April." She patted her on the shoulder as she walked out, reveling in the tiny flinch she received in response. "Have a good day, now."

* * *

The mood was joyous. It was the happiest she'd felt in a while, and there was a little part of her just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But right then, she felt on top of the world, laughing with the others as they tied their ties and straightened their blue shirts.

Quinn knew she didn't deserve to be happy with all the lies and sins in her life. She knew it. But she couldn't help the sense of pride welling up in her after the standing ovation the first number had received. She couldn't help but joke and laugh with the others. She couldn't help, for just a moment, forgetting that she was lying to her boyfriend while carrying Puckerman's child in her womb.

"They loved us! We're a hit!" She glanced up at Artie's words, just in time to see him catching five from Mr. Schuester. Something was off about their teacher but she just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"W-w-where's April?" Something about Mr. Schuester's face made her jaw clench at the hope in Tina's voice.

"You were right, Mr. Schue. She'd massacre Mariah in a diva off." _Why_ were they still talking? She wanted to yell at them all to just shut up and let Mr. Schuester tell them what was wrong.

"April _is_ amazing." She bit her lip, knowing the other shoe was waiting to fall. "But she's not in the glee club anymore." There it was. She'd known it'd all been too good to last. "I... uh... I screwed up bringing her here. It was about me and glee club is _supposed_ to be about you guys. You don't need _her_ to be great."

There was a moment of silence before Mercedes pushed through to the front of the group. "But we need her for the second act."

"I'll just have to go out there and tell them we had to cut the show short." She didn't know what to say to the man crushing the energy of the room with his selfishness. It was bad enough he'd pushed Rachel out and brought in the old hag as her replacement, but now he wouldn't even let them have _her_? "Hey, guys. You were _great_!" As if meaningless platitudes would fix this. "Don't worry. There _will_ be other performances."

She almost couldn't believe it when she saw it with her own eyes, but there, behind him, it looked like Rachel in the doorway.

"Excuse me?" The voice, _her_ voice, sent a tiny shiver through her. She wasn't sure how to define the shiver, annoyance, gratitude... hope. It'd been weeks since she'd heard it last, but she'd always recognize it. And right now, it felt like the most wonderful thing. "I think I might have a solution."

Rachel stepped almost hesitantly into the room. "In show business, when a star can't perform, her understudy steps in. I'd," she paused, uncertain if they would accept what she was offering. "be happy to go on for April if you'd let me."

"Since when are you willing to be an understudy?" Quinn had to fight back the urge to slap the sullenness out of Mercedes voice, blaming her irrational desire to actually _defend_ her rival on the messed up hormones Puckerman's spawn was sending through her body.

The brunette took a couple quick strides, bringing her further into the room, into the light. "Since I quit the play."

"Really?" Kurt looked at her with a curious expression. "Why?"

All eyes turned to her and Rachel felt her moment of uncertainty spread. She knew they didn't want her around, but they needed her. And as long as she was needed, she'd do her best to be there. "I... realized being a star didn't make me feel as special as being your friend." Her throat almost closed up on the words, they felt so like a lie. She knew out of all of them only Puck actually wanted her friendship. Then her eyes caught Quinn's sad hazel and the next words fell out of her mouth before she could think about them.

"If I let you down when you needed me the most," She kept her eyes on Quinn, trying to make her understand. "I'd never forgive myself."

Quinn was the first to break eye contact. She knew Rachel was just trying to talk them into letting her back in, she wasn't talking to her no matter how it looked. The smaller girl hated her, and she deserved that hatred after everything she'd done to her.

"I know all the words to the song." Rachel smiled, her eyes lighting up when she spotted Puck's smirk of approval.

"You don't know the choreography." She couldn't help but verbally smack that bright smile off Rachel's face, especially when she saw her and Puckerman making eyes at each other, but she couldn't explain why. Nor could she explain why it made her feel so bad to see that smile fall off the brunette's face just as she'd intended.

When Finn spoke though, it felt like betrayal. Was he _with_ her or something? He was supposed to be _her_ boyfriend, not that annoying little diva's! "Then we're going to have to give her a lot of help out there." The stupid grin he was giving her just made her want to scream.

She was so focused on how angry that Finn was making her by flirting with Rachel _in front of everybody_ , that she never noticed how Rachel's eyes never turned to the overgrown boy.

* * *

"I didn't think you were coming back." Puck's words were accompanied by a tight hug that she didn't even think about turning down. Yes, they may have fought tooth and nail - literally - a few weeks ago and barely spoken since, but he'd been the best source of comfort for so long that she couldn't help but turn to him.

She leans back, grinning up at him. "How could I stay away? You really rocked out there. Everybody did."

"Of course we did! You just can't go wrong with the Puckmeister on your side." Puck smirked, letting her go enough to ruffle her hair and catch her arm with his, allowing them to fall into a comfortable silence as they walked out to the parking lot together. The smile didn't die, but his eyes had turned serious when he next spoke.

"We good, Rach?" She could hear the slight strain of worry in his voice.

She smiled, soft, sweet and warm, _his_ smile. The same smile she'd given him when he'd first held their son. But it was different now, touched with their shared sadness. She leaned into him, taking comfort in his presence.

"Yes, Noah. I think we are."

At the other end of the hall, Quinn stood, watching them walk away. Hating the tears that pricked her eyes and the feeling of loss filling her chest. Hating herself for running after Rachel to try and talk, try and apologize again. For wanting to be the one she walked out with instead of _him_.

Her shoulders slumped as she turned away.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

She didn't know what brought her to the pond, but that was where she found herself after the Invitational, slumped on the grass and staring blindly out across the water. It was chilly out and a part of her knew being there alone at night when no one else knew where she was wasn't safe, but she couldn't really bring herself to care. The solitude and the soft sound of the water lapping against the shore calmed her, gave her time to think.

She didn't know what to do about the confused mass of feelings roiling about inside of her, bringing tears to her eyes and clenching her fists in anger. Part of it had to be pregnancy hormones she knew, but there were just so _many_ and they had a strange familiarity that she hadn't wanted to address previously. She was just so _confused_.

Her head dropped to rest on her arms, folded over her knees. It was tiring, trying to process through all that was going on in her life, and she kept feeling like she'd never manage to catch up. Everything was just too much and happening way too fast. She'd never wanted things to just _stop_ for a moment so she could just _breathe_ so much before.

The warm arm wrapping around her shoulders sent a jolt of fear shooting through the chaos inside of her and made her jerk upright, looking about wildly to find the source. When panicked hazel eyes met quietly sad and concerned blue, she couldn't help but crumple, her stoic mask falling away and for a moment the pain watching Puck and Rachel walk away from her arm in arm shone bare on her tear-stained face. Brittany just sighed softly at the sight of her friend's agony and cuddled her close.

"It'll be okay, Q," the taller blonde whispered into her hair when her quietly desperate sobs began to slow, "you'll see."

"H-how? How will it be okay, Britt?" Quinn didn't push her way up, not yet ready to leave the warm comfort Brittany's embrace offered. "I'm _pregnant_ and soon _everyone_ will know. I'll lose _everything_. How can it possibly be okay?"

"I think it's really great that you're going to have a kid." She smiled softly, hopefully, at the girl in her arms, "It'll be so neat when they're ready to come out and say hi. I bet they'll be just as awesome as you are, Q."

Quinn couldn't help the soft chuckle through her tears at her best friend's uncomplicated views on the subject. She reached up with a shaky hand and rubbed away a few of the tears on her cheek. "I wish I could see it like that, B, I really do."

"Then why don't you?"

"It's not that easy. I'm all alone here, B." She finally worked up the courage to leave her friend's embrace and sat up on her own. Brittany let her arm slide down from Quinn's shoulders, but kept it lightly wrapped around the smaller girl's waist.

"You're not alone, Quinn. You've got Finn -"

Quinn snorted softly at the thought. "Finn, yeah. I guess, for now, I do." She wasn't about to lie about what would happen when the truth about _that_ came out. It wouldn't be pretty.

Brittany frowned, but didn't stop. "You've got me and San. And San would totally beat up anyone who looks at you funny."

"You mean she'd beat up anyone who looks at _you_ funny. We don't have that kind of relationship, sweetie."

"She wouldn't let anyone hurt you, Q. You're her friend." Pale brows furrowed in a deepening frown.

"Santana is her own friend, B. There's only one person she'd go out of her way to protect and I think we both know that's not me." Quinn let her hand rest on the other girl's knee in a off-handed attempt at comfort. "Don't worry, B. It's okay, I promise."

"If you say so, Q," for a moment it didn't look as though the leggy dancer would let it go, but then her expression cleared and a bright smile lit up her face. "Besides, there's Rachel."

"What?"

"There's always Rachel." The girl looked positively thrilled with the bomb she'd just dropped on the mother-to-be.

"There's always Rachel _what_?" Quinn was openly staring at her companion, confusion written across her features.

Brittany laughed, giving a shrug. "Rachel would totally be there for you if you needed help, Q."

For a split second, a flash of hope danced across Quinn's face, then it vanished and hazel eyes looked back out over the water. "No, she wouldn't." Her voice was soft enough that Brittany almost had to strain to hear her even sitting right next to her. "I've done way too much."

"She would, Quinn, you just got to give her a chance." Brittany gave her a squeeze, tugging her into her side. "Rachel's really sweet, even if she does dress like an old lady sometimes. Oh! And she gives like _awesome_ hugs. You should totally ask for one."

"Brittany, I am _not_ asking _Rachel freaking Berry_ for a _hug_!" Quinn jerked around to stare at the blonde opening grinning at her for a moment before her shocked expression fell into one of more confused horror. " _Why_ do you know how great her hugs are anyway?"

"She's been tutoring me in English." She shrugged, unconcerned with the backlash that could come if it came out that she'd been willingly associating with one of the lower castes of McKinley's popularity hierarchy. "San helps me with math and Spanish and you help me with science and history, but I still needed help with English. Rachel's in my class and she doesn't get all mean and call me names when I don't understand something. I got the best hug from her when I got a B on the last test. It was real nice."

"I bet it was, Britt." Quinn turned away again, swallowing against the thick feeling clogging her throat as she realized that she couldn't even have _that_ much of a friendship with the brunette after how she'd acted freshman year. "But I've been way too mean to her."

Brittany just raised her arm to encircle Quinn's shoulders again and pulled her into an embrace again. "She'd forgive you, Q."

"Been there, B," she smiled sadly through the tears starting to trickle down her cheeks again, "done that. I've tried apologizing. It didn't work."

"It'll work now." Brittany's voice was full of her simple confidence. "You really mean it this time."

She laughed at the absurd simplicity. She'd never expected to hear the same bizarre logic coming from her best friend as Rachel had spouted last year. "When'd you get so smart, hey?"

"I've always been smart. It's just that nobody ever listens."

The two blondes leaned into each other giggling in the cool darkness. They never noticed the quickly muffled gasp and the wet thump that accompanied it. The following rustle of heavy wings bearing their owner and her grisly burden into the night sky was masked by the barking of a nearby dog.

* * *

Quinn spun the dial of her locker, quickly popping the lock and pulling the door open. Reaching inside, she shuffled through the short stack of folders before grabbing her chemistry binder and pulling it out. She was tired and just wanted to get through the day. Talking with Brittany the other night had helped, but things were still beyond stressed.

"I haven't seen you at glee rehearsals." The soft voice coming from beside her surprised her enough that she quickly darted her head around to confirm that the petite brunette really was standing beside her, really was _talking_ to her. She couldn't help the way her heart rate suddenly increased, but she certainly could keep from showing it on her face.

"I'm not superwoman. I know Glee is _your_ whole life, but I have the Cheerios. I'm on honor roll. I have friends." She had to look away then to keep the other girl from seeing just how much that last line felt like a lie. Slamming her locker, she started walking away, only to be stopped by that same voice and that soft warmth laced throughout it.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. No one at Glee is going to judge you." Quinn slowly turned and Rachel took advantage of the moment to step up to her again. "Look, I know everyone expects us to be enemies and be in competition, but," Rachel paused a moment, remembering what Brittany had told her about the blonde at their last study session, something she'd felt Rachel needed to tell the other girl, "I don't hate you."

The cheerleader couldn't help the brief rush of hope, but pride kept it off her face. "Why not? I've been _awful_ to you."

"That was before you knew what it felt like to be me. An outsider." Though Quinn should never know just how outside' Rachel really was. "More people are going to start finding out about this and you're going to need friends who can relate."

"How can you relate to what I'm going through?" The damn tears were back, she could hear them in her voice. She really _hated_ how easy that tap turned on lately.

Rachel rolled her eyes with a small smirk. "You have _no_ idea what I've been through before moving here, Quinn. Besides, you don't think I've noticed how people whisper about me in the lunchroom or draw pornographic pictures on the bathroom walls?"

"That was me," the blonde felt an unusual need to come clean about that one, "actually."

For a moment the brunette found herself speechless, then she nodded slowly. "That... goes a long way towards explaining how surprisingly accurate they were." Rachel let out the rest of the breath she'd taken during Quinn's minor confession. "Look, I don't agree with the choice you're making, but you're going to need Glee. I-i-it's... You have seven months of your youth left, you should _enjoy_ it! And, let's face it, in a couple of months that cheerleading uniform isn't going to fit and we're going to be all you have left.

"Just," she paused again, making a conscious decision to take the conversation a different direction than her heart was telling her, "come back to practice. Boys versus girls. It's _fun_ and we could certainly use your voice right now. You're actually a good singer, Quinn."

Wait, was Berry actually _complimenting_ her?

"Occasionally sharp, but that's just because you lack my years of training." If she was, it was awfully insulting. Still, the brunette had made the effort, had reached out to her. For a moment, she hated the hormones again and how pathetically grateful they made her feel that it was _Rachel_ who'd come to get her to return and not one of the other girls.

"I would have tortured you if the roles were reversed, you know." Her smile was tinged with the sadness andl remorse she'd never allowed to show before, no matter how much she may have felt it.

"Maybe," Rachel smiled softly up at her, hugging her notebooks to her chest, "but I think maybe I was wrong when I told you you were pretending before. And maybe I was wrong to not accept."

With that, she stepped around the other girl and strode off down the hallway. Quinn stood there for a moment, turning Rachel's words over in her mind. As the last comment the brunette had made sank in, she slowly turned to look over her shoulder at the retreated girl.

If her eyes were watery, it was just the dust in the hall getting in them. Damn janitors, never doing their jobs properly.

* * *

A _co-director_.

Rachel _knew_ nothing good ever came of drugs and this just proved it. And worse, it was the cheerleading coach. Sue Sylvester was nothing if not a dictatorial tyrant. Both on the field and off. Rachel had deliberately avoided coming into her presence for more than a few moments at a time, usually just long enough to say whatever needed to be said and leave.

But now here she was standing in the choir room, in _Rachel's_ domain, all bright eyed smiles and bushy tailed attitude. And it made the smaller girl _sick_. Was this school determined to drive away _every_ sanctuary she had? Did it _want_ a massacre on its hands?

Then her eyes caught the coach's blue gaze and spotted the flash of silver. Suddenly more alert, she noticed the way the coach's hair gleamed more metallically in the choir room's lights than blonde hair should. Her nostrils flared, picking up a distinctly ancient scent. Her eyes narrowed.

One of the _Faye_. In _her_ territory.

This changed things. She'd have to watch Sue Sylvester more closely now, find out how much of a power base she'd compiled, how strong she'd become. Find out whether she'd be an ally or an enemy.

This changed _everything_.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

"You should give Quinn a hug."

Rachel restrained her start of surprise and finished putting the books from her last two classes in her locker. She took a deep breath before taking out the binder for English and closing the locker door to reveal the tall blonde looking down at her with a sad pout on her normally cheerful features.

"Good morning, Brittany. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" She glanced around the hall, even looking behind the taller girl, but didn't spot her darker shadow. "And where's Santana? Normally she is accompanying you."

"San had a doctor appointment to go to this morning," Brittany's voice was sorrowful as she imparted this bit of information to the brunette, "and she's not back yet."

"Oh. I see," Rachel hesitated for a moment, not really looking to be shot down by the taller girl, "would you like to accompany me to our English class in that case?" The blonde nodded cheerfully as she hadn't really wanted to walk the halls alone any more. Rachel gave her a small smile as they walked along. "What was it you wanted to speak with me about, Brittany?"

For a moment, the leggy dancer looked puzzled, then she remembered why she'd sought out the smaller girl and a bright smile lit up her face. "You should give Quinn a hug."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that would be such a good idea."

"Why not? She's going through a lot right now." She frowned, chewing on her lip. "She's real sad all the time and you give like the best hugs."

"While I appreciate the compliment to my hugging acumen, I sincerely doubt that Quinn would appreciate a hug from me, Brittany." Rachel hugged her binder a little closer to her chest, not looking up at the blonde. She wouldn't meet the blue eyes looking at her, just knowing that if she did her secrets would all come out. "In fact, I rather believe that the smallest attempt in such a direction would result in violence being performed upon my person."

Pale brows furrowed for a moment as she processed what Rachel had said. It still took her a moment to get through the big words Rachel always used, but it was getting a lot easier as she got used to hanging around with the petite diva. "You just said that Q would probably hit you if you hugged her, right?" At Rachel's nod, she smiled for a moment at not needing a translation before the little frown reappeared. "She wouldn't hurt you, Rach."

"An admirable sentiment, but I think we both know that Quinn is not predisposed to behaving kindly in my regard." Rachel reached out with a tenative hand and lightly patted Brittany's arm before wrapping it back around her binder, offering a tiny smile to the taller girl. "It's okay, really"

"No, it's not!" Brittany stopped in the middle of the hall, making Rachel stop as well to avoid being rude. "It's _not_ okay, Rachel!" For a friendly open girl, she had a terribly impressive glower, but it didn't last long, and her next words were said in a soft voice with a pout. "You make Quinn _sad_ and I don't like it."

"I don't make Quinn sad, Brittany." Dark brows furrowed this time, Rachel staring at the girl in confusion. "She's made it entirely clear that the only thing I make her feel is anger."

Brittany sighed, reaching out and grabbing Rachel's wrist before continuing walking down the hall, the smaller girl in tow. "That's only because Q doesn't really know how to be with you."

"B-be _with_ me?" The diva's normally pitch perfect voice squeaked in her startlement.

The blonde glanced back over her shoulder. "You know, like friends and stuff. Q's always wanted to be your friend, but you got started bad and it didn't come out right."

Rachel couldn't help the entirely undignified snort of disbelief. "Yes, of course, she's always wanted to be my friend, which is why she arranged for slushies to be hurled in my face, horrible names yelled at me by the various elements of the school's athletics department, and terribly graphic pictures drawn in the bathrooms. Because she wanted to be my _friend_."

Brittany frowned, finally getting irritated with the situation and quickly looking around, dragged Rachel into the nearest girls' bathroom, jamming the door shut with a rubber wedge. Door secured so they wouldn't be bothered, she turned to her companion with arms crossed over her chest. "Q _tried_ apologizing to you, Rachel. She told me so. _You_ turned _her_ down. She tried a _lot_. You were _mean_."

" _I_ was mean." The other girl rolled her eyes. "Brittany, Quinn threw a slushie in my _face_ within the first minute I set foot within this school."

"She _apologized_."

"And then she did it again! She attacked and insulted everything about me and she did it over and over, Brittany." Rachel wouldn't meet the taller girl's eyes, glaring off to the side. "Nothing about that says she ever wanted to be my friend."

Brittany frowned for a moment at the hurt in the brunette's voice before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around her. Hugs always made things better. "Q's bad at showing what she feels and she's _really_ bad at apologizing. But she tried, Rachel. And she could use a friend right now that she's all scared about the baby and stuff."

"She's got you and Santana." Her words were muffled by the taller girl's uniform.

The lanky blonde released her and stepped back, but left her hands on Rachel's shoulders, studying her curiously. "Well, yeah, but I think she'd really like a hug from you. I think it'd really cheer her up."

"I don't know, Brittany."

"Think about it, kay?" The blonde smiled brightly at her slow nod, wrapping her up in another quick hug before spinning about and kicking the stop out from under the door and heading off to their English class to the sound of the first bell.

* * *

Shutting her locker only to be confronted with the slack-jawed visage of Jacob ben Israel leering at her was _not_ high on her list of priorities for the day. In fact, it hadn't even managed to make it on said list. So when that was exactly what she got stopping at her locker between third and fourth period, she was considerably less than happy.

"The independent polling company in my Dockers has determined that you're the hotest girl in this school."

And that made it worse. Just the thought of what was likely going through his rusty puffball of a head was enough to make her want to make Ms. Pillsbury _really_ think she'd turned to bulimia. "Ew."

"H-have you been reading my blog?" He was _following_ her. The day seriously couldn't get any worse.

"Of course not. You're a gossipmonger and your blog is nothing but trash and lies," she shot him a dark look, "many of them about _me_."

"Well, you'll be happy to know the one I'm working on right now has nothing to do with you or your rumored lust for Jew-fros." She turned to face him with a practiced roll of her eyes, knowing he wouldn't leave her alone until she listened. "It's about Quinn Fabray. Word on the street is that she's in trouble."

He actually said the last words in an appalling sing-song. And rubbing his _stomach_? What kind of nasty creature was he supposed to _be_ anyway? "Where did you hear that?"

He smirked and she damned herself for playing into his trap. "Are you denying it?"

"Yes!" She spun on her heel and marched off.

"Because the same birdie told me you're heart-broken that Finn Hudson didn't choose _you_ to carry his litter!"

She felt the claws pop through the flesh of her forearms where she'd dug them in to keep from exposing them to the busy hall, the slow, hot trickle of blood oozing into her sleeves, knowing the pink fabric of her top was darkening as it soaked up the vital fluid. Her eyes snapped shut to hold back the flames that threatened to burst out and her lips flattened into a hard line to hide the rows of teeth filling her mouth. She stood there for a long moment, regaining control, fighting down the rage, before turning to stride back towards him.

"What will it take for you to not run this story?"

The disgusting excuse for a Jewish boy just grinned.

* * *

"Are we friends?"

She still hadn't quite gotten used to the lanky blonde popping up beside her, but it was a far better surprise than the vile little boy and his sick desires. "Excuse me, Brittany?"

"Are we friends?" The blonde was leaning against the lockers, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Why do you ask?"

"I just want to know. Santana says that friends help each other, and you help me," She shrugged the shoulder that wasn't up against the cool metal of the lockers. "so I want to know if we're friends."

Rachel rummaged in her locker for a moment, gathering her thoughts before answering. "If that's what you want, Brittany, I would not be adverse to being your friend."

"That's good, right?"

The brunette leaned back to catch baby blue eyes with her own and smiled. "Yes, Brittany, that's good."

"So we're friends?"

"Yes, if that's what you want." She selected a folder, glancing at through for a moment before shaking her head and putting it back. "Were you going somewhere with this?"

"Quinn says friends tell each other secrets and I want to tell you one, so I had to make sure we were friends first." The blonde doodled on the locker her head was leaning on with one long finger, eyes on what she was doing and not Rachel.

"Okay then, now that we're friends, what was so secret we had to be friends so you could tell me?" There it was. She pulled out her history book from the bottom of the locker, rifling through the pages to find a neatly folded piece of sheet music.

"Quinn really likes you, Rachel."

Rachel sighed, shoving the book back into the locker hard enough for Brittany to feel the vibrations. She swallowed harshly against the sudden wave of feelings crushing down her voice and kept her eyes focused on the back of her locker. "Do we have to talk about this again?"

"She's really hurting, Rach. And it hurts me to see her hurting. I want her to feel better and I think you can help, but you're still being mean."

"I'm not being mean, Brittany. I'm being reasonable." She composed herself, finally grabbing the folder with her extra sheet music and composition notebook for Glee and closing the door. She didn't say a word when the taller blonde caught her pinky finger with her own, though she did spare a quick glance around the hall for any jealously angry cheerleaders when it happened.

" _I_ think you're being mean. I told you it was a secret."

"It's such an excellent secret that even Quinn doesn't know about it," At the sight of the blonde's face falling, Rachel felt awful and hurried to try and reassure her, "It's really okay, Brittany. Quinn and I are a lot like Santana and I. We don't really get along."

"But she really does like you."

"... damn dykes all up on each other in the damn halls..." A gruff masculine voice interrupted from behind them before Rachel could respond, causing the brunette's eyes to narrow dangerously. Spinning around she spotted the source, an oversized member of the school athletics department that had slushied her a couple of times before Puck caused a resounding halt to the sticky beverage being directed at her person.

" _Excuse_ me, Azimio?"

He sneered. "You heard me, freak. I'm sick of seeing the way you lesbo bitches are all over each other. It's fucking nasty."

Rachel glanced around quickly, realizing that the hall was pretty much empty except for her, Brittany and the over-grown brute. There wasn't anyone to defend them, but that meant there also was no one else to see, and once she caught the look of hurt on the tall blonde's face her mind was made up. Handing her folder to Brittany, she stalked over to the athlete.

"Listen, you vicious _troglodyte_ , you can call me whatever you want, I don't _care_. But do you see that girl?" She pointed back at Brittany, twisting her body away from him to make sure he knew exactly who she was pointing at. "She is off-limits because she is _entirely_ too sweet and caring to be tainted by your _disgusting_ bigotry."

"Like I give a _shit_ about what you've got to say. You're just a damn dyke who needs to be taught how things fucking _work_. Whaddya say about a _real_ man, baby?" He smirked over the brunette's shoulder at Brittany, grabbing his crotch in what Rachel could only assume was supposed to be a suggestive manner, "I'll show you a good time."

Her expression had gone blank when he started crudely propositioning her friend. "You are _not_ a man, Azimio." Her hand shot out with a hideous popping sound as her small hand suddenly grew much larger and wrapped about the meaty fist still gripping his pride and joy. "A _real_ man does not have to _insult_ women."

His eyes had widened when the first pricks of her claws had registered. When she began to squeeze, he'd mewled like an infant, buckling slowly to his knees. She followed him down, keeping a firm grip, his dark face paled at the pain shooting through him.

"She is _off limits_ ," Her voice was soft as she whispered in his ear, almost sweet if it wasn't for the horrible harmonics, "do you understand?"

He nodded frantically, unable to form words around the pain, mouth gaping open like a beached fish. She gave a vicious twist of her wrist, not enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to make him think there might be. "You and your disgusting colleagues had best leave Brittany _alone_ from now on, or you'll answer to me and don't you _ever_ think I won't find out."

She shoved him as she let go, sending him toppling to the ground. She straightened, rubbing her hand to disguise it's shift back to her normal one before turning to face Brittany.

Who, she discovered, had been found by her shadow.

Santana stood beside the taller girl, looking the other brunette over with an amused smirk on her tanned features. "Damn, Berry. Maybe you _do_ have some redeeming qualities under all that argyle."

"Santana, I am seriously not in the mood to indulge your joy of insults right now." She stalked back over to where the two girls were standing, accepting her folder back from the stunned blonde.

"Who said anything about insulting you?" The darker girl laughed at the confused look on Rachel's face at her words. "Look, you stepped up and defended my girl," she stepped up and put a hand on the other girl's shoulder, glancing past her to sneer at where Azimio was still writhing on the floor, "from a fucking asshole. I didn't actually think you had that kind of bitch in you."

Santana turned her attention from the boy on the ground to the girl who put him there, for a long moment they just stood there with only Azimio's groans breaking the silence. A strange expression was on the darker girl's face and the tip of her tongue darted out to lick her lips before finally a small smile turned up the corners of her lips.

"You're alright in my book, Berry." She turned to her best friend and held out her hand, quickly linking pinkies and headed towards the choir room. A couple steps down she paused, realizing that Rachel wasn't following. "Well, Berry?"

"W-what?"

Dark eyes rolled as a giggle was muffled in a pale hand. "Seriously, Mighty Mouse? You finally show enough badass to actually be seen in public with us and you start acting all wussy on us?"

Brittany stopped trying to hide her laughter and let go of her best friend's pinkie long enough to run back to where Rachel was standing dumbfounded. "We're friends, right?"

"Yes," the brunette couldn't help the strange sense of confusion bubbling through her, "we're friends."

"Then stop being silly and come _on_." Grabbing her hand, she quickly linked their pinkies and started tugging her towards where Santana was waiting less than patiently.

The dark girl looked at their conjoined pinkies with an unreadable expression for a moment before glancing up at Brittany's happy face, shrugging and linking pinkies with the taller girl's free hand. Thus connected, the trio headed down the hall, Brittany cheerfully swinging her and her friends' arms as they walked.

"We so need to do something about your clothes though. Your whole pre-school argyle chic is so not cutting it if you want to hang with us."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

"You are so _insensitive_!" Quinn stormed out of Spanish class clinging tightly to her anger at her boyfriend's _stupid_ suggestion for a baby name to keep the teatening tears away. "Bringing up baby names to me when you _know_ I don't want to keep it. I _can't_ keep it."

Finn stumbled along in her wake, shoving past the students who didn't part for him like they did for his girlfriend. "I know, but I don't get what you expect me to do about it."

"Not have an opinion." She didn't hesitate with her answer. It wasn't his problem. It wasn't his _child_ , but she would be _damned_ before she admitted any of that. She need him to be the supportive boyfriend he'd been before this mess, not some clingy little boy!

"Hey, this is happening to me too!"

"No, it's not!" It was _her_ problem, not his. _Her_ life being destroyed _not_ his. _She_ was the one who couldn't walk away from this, not _him_. He didn't have _any_ right complaining when he wouldn't lose anything over this whole stupid mess. Heck, if anything, his rep would go _up_ for knocking up the head cheerleader! Even if he _didn't_. And that wasn't even touching on her parents. Oh, God, her _parents_. "You're not the one whose _parents_ will _burn_ her like a witch if they find out."

She had turned to her locker, fighting with the combination, when he decided it be really great to open his mouth and just let out the best argument. "You know, sometimes I wish you were a little more like Rachel."

 _Rachel_. Everything always came back to _Rachel_. Why she was dating Finn - she need _something_ to get her mother off her back and she didn't have a new friend to distract her with. The strange tightness in her chest every time she heard someone mention the shorter girl, let alone when she actually saw her or - God forbid - _thought_ about her. Heck, if she'd just accepting the damn _apology_ , she'd never have gotten with Puck and this whole mess would have never happened!

She hated the tight feeling growing in her chest, like her heart was being slowly squeezed by a giant hand. Hated the thick feeling at the back of her toat and the tears that pricked her eyes. But she let her mask slip into place and slowly turned to face the boy who was _supposed_ to stand at her side, the boy who _said_ he loved her. "Really?"

"Yeah." He nodded, the stupid oaf. He actually _nodded_. "She cares about my feelings. S-she sticks up for me. She sticks up for _both_ of us." He leaned towards her as if to impart some great secret, as if nothing they'd been arguing about in the halls was _supposed_ to be secret. "You know she gave that Jacob kid a pair of her underpants just to keep him from posting on his blog about you being pregnant?"

Quinn couldn't help but scoff as she shoved her books into her locker. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to cherish the warm thought that maybe the other girl _had_ made that sort of sacrifice for her. That maybe, just _maybe_ , there was still a chance that they could somehow be friends. But she quickly pushed that aside as illogical. Rachel hated her and after all she'd done, she didn't blame her.

So when she turned back to the overgrown boy looming over her, she smiled with disbelief, ignoring the blurriness to her vision that said her eyes were probably bright with unshed tears. "You think she did that for me? Just to be a good teammate?"

"Yeah, that's what she told me."

The tears were getting harder to fight off. She wanted so bad to believe the stupid lie he was feeding her was true and it _hurt_. She shook her head. "I know some guys cheat on their wives or pregnant girlfriends. Just don't do it with _her_."

Slamming her locker shut, she hurried off as fast as she could without actually breaking into a run, not wanting to let him see the tears trickling down her face or how very much it _hurt_ to think she had to say that. The problem was she wasn't sure what hurt worse. The idea of Finn cheating on her. Or the idea of _him_ being with _Rachel_ when _she_ couldn't.

As she slipped into a girls' batoom, locking herself into a stall, she couldn't help but wonder why the latter was even a source of pain. She just wasn't like _that_.

* * *

She didn't know what kept drawing her to the park and the little hill beside the pond, but she had to admit that it was starting to become a habit. Many afternoons after Cheerios practice, she'd throw on her "civvies" - a term designated by one Sue Sylvester - and drive to the relatively secluded park. She'd spend the rest of the day until her ten o'clock curfew watching the ducks swim on the placid surface and letting the soft susurration of water caressing the shore to calm her turbulent mind. She supposed it was a popular spot in the summer time, but the chill air of the coming winter gave it a quiet peace that she cherished.

Not many people knew she came out there. Brittany did, of course. The taller blonde would join her sometimes, knowing with that innate sense of hers when Quinn most needed a friendly arm and a shoulder to lean on. And if Brittany knew, then most likely Santana did, though the dark girl hadn't shown her face at any of Quinn's mini-vigils yet.

She knew hanging out in a park until the late evening - well past dark - wasn't the safest move, but she didn't know where else to go. She couldn't go home, it wasn't worth the risk of her parents accidentally finding out about the baby. For the same reason, she couldn't spend all of her evenings at Brittany or Santana's - their parents would inevitably tell hers if they found out, no matter how cool they were they wouldn't keep a secret _this_ big.

So she found herself at the park, sitting on the grass, her Cheerios' jacket tugged around her shoulders against the chill breeze and hazel eyes staring blankly at the softly quacking ducks. Just sitting there and wondering how things had ended up the way they had. Wondering who would show up if they knew she was here and what she would do if they did. Wondering why she hoped Rachel would be the one walking over the hill and feeling stupid every time the thought came to her.

The brunette would have to be a fool to come looking for her after everything she'd done, everything she'd said. Rachel wasn't that much of a fool and Quinn knew she just wasn't worth the effort. But she couldn't help the tears trickling slowly down her cheeks at the forced realization of just how much she wished she _was_.

The sharp snap of a twig cracking underfoot brought her spinning to her feet, hands dashing tears from her cheeks and eyes wide with hope, only to fall when she recognized the dirty blonde waves of the woman picking her way down the hill. The hope fell from her face, her cheeks staining lightly with the flush of shame at how much she'd wanted those locks to be much darker and on a shorter girl as she looked away. "Oh. It's you."

"Well, don't try too hard to be friendly, sweetie." She heard the quiet clack of the woman's sunglasses folding up behind her, though why the woman was wearing sunglasses after dark she hadn't the faintest idea.

Quinn shook her head in aggravation. "What do you want, Mrs. Schuester?" She couldn't help the resignation in her voice.

"Just checking on you, dear. I was a bit _concerned_ when I saw your car in the parking lot." The woman stepped up beside her, peering at her with wide eyes. "Don't you think it's a bit cold out here for you and the baby? You don't want the baby to be born _deformed_ , do you?"

Quinn glanced at her with disgusted confusion. "What are you even talking about?"

"I'm talking about our _baby_ , sweetie!" Terri put on an expression of affected concern, "You really should be taking better care of it." She placed her hand upon the girl's shoulder.

Quinn shrugged off the hand, stepping away. "Could you just, go away now? I'm not really in the mood to deal with this now."

"But, sweetie..." Terri took a step towards her, one hand reaching out.

"Maybe you didn't notice," Quinn glanced back over her shoulder, but didn't turn enough to really face the older woman, "but I came here to be _alone_ and that's real hard to do with you here. And _my_ baby is _not_ an _it_."

"Listen here, you little hussy, we have a deal. You squirt out the baby, I take it and everyone goes home a winner." She stepped forward, poking Quinn in the chest with a bony finger hard enough to make the younger girl wince. "Or do you want your _parents_ to find out about your little _mistake_? I can always tell them, you know."

"You're not telling anyone _anything_." The voice came from the darkness of the treeline, a rumbling thing of mixed harmonics and a strange undertone that made a shiver curl down the spine of the listeners. "She asked you to _leave_."

"It's a free world, stranger. I'm not going anywhere." Terri faced the darkness, squinting at the trees and the speaker the hid.

"Perhaps you didn't understand. You can either leave on your _own_ ," there was a gentle rustle, "or I can _make_ you."

The speaker stepped fully into the light, crossing the distance between the trees and the two women with a single bound, a heavy clawed paw resting on the older woman's shoulder in a manner that couldn't be described as anything but threatening. The monster, all six and a half feet of weirdly thin yet obviously female curves, bared her teeth at the trembling woman, chocolate fire lapping at the skin around where her eyes should be. She lifted the woman with the grip on her shoulder, spun her about and gave her a sharp shove that sent her stumbling back towards the foot path at the top of the hill.

Terri tripped after only two steps, landing sprawled on the ground and scrabbling at the grass and dirt to try and propel herself away, fearful squeaks and squawks the only sounds coming from her. The monster just glared with silent fury at her efforts, finally flaring her wings wide and faking a lunge at the woman with a barking roar. Finally, she managed to regain her feet with a short shriek of terror and scrambled up the hill and away, her heels clacking harshly on the pavement.

Quinn hadn't made a sound through the whole incident. She couldn't, frozen in place by the sight of something out of her nightmares standing in front of her playing the part of her unexpected saviour. It figured, the hysterical part of her mind babbled, a demon would try and protect her, she was damned to hell for cheating on her boyfriend and having sex and a _baby_ outside of marriage and those _thoughts_ about _Rachel_ and... she couldn't help the tiny squeak of fear that slipped through her lips.

The monster stopped watching for Terri at the sound. Snapping her wings in so fast they made an audible sound, she spun about to face the girl, standing with her arms folded protectively over her stomach. At the sight of the terrified girl, the monster's face twisted into something that looked distinctly like regret and orbs of chocolate fire met hazel for a moment, dimming from the riotous flames that had confronted Terri.

"Please... don't be afraid of me." The monster's voice was almost timid, the uncertainty a marked contrast to the anger of moments earlier. She could see her throat work as if swallowing down something. "Please."

At that glance, Quinn was struck by how familiar those eyes looked, unable to help relaxing at the unexpected familiarity. She couldn't quite put her finger on where she'd seen them, but she just knew she had and that it was important. More important, something inside of her told her that those eyes were nothing to fear.

"I-I'm not." She hated the stammer that made her words sound like a lie. Hated the way the monster seemed to flinch as if struck, folding down upon herself until she looked even smaller, long arms wrapped around her ribs in an awkward hug. "I'm not. You're... _real_?"

The monster looked up, a thin tongue darting out to moisten her lips. "Of course, I'm real."

She couldn't help but think that voice should say more, that there should be a whole paragraph spilling from those lips, but she didn't know why. "I... I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." The monster straightened a bit, wings folding behind her. "Not to me."

"I want to." A tear trickled down her cheek as she glanced away, "I don't apologize nearly enough when it's important. I thought maybe I should start."

The monster stared at her for a long moment and Quinn couldn't help feeling that something important was happening, that this whole thing was _important_. Finally, her strange voice broke the silence.

"I accept."

For a long moment, they stood there, the wind in the trees the only sound, chocolate fire meeting hazel eyes across the intervening distance. A long shuddering breath escaped from Quinn as a strange sense of relief settled on her. She couldn't explain it, why two words from a creature that shouldn't even exist made her feel like so much weight had just lifted from her shoulders. The first nervous laugh shivered its way out, but it quickly dissolved into sobs of relief as she crumpled to her knees, arms wrapped about her as if trying to hold herself together.

She heard the footsteps as the monster crossed to her, felt the heavy yet gentle weight of the clawed hand rest upon her head, claws running ever so delicately against her scalp. "I wish I could be your friend, Quinn. I wish you'd let me."

Then the hand was gone and she barely got her head up in time to see her take two quick steps away, wings out furling. For a moment she was shocked into silence, unable to react in the face of the magnificently fearful beauty before her, tanned skin washed in silver moonlight, wings outstretched to bear her away in flight. "W-wait!"

The monster paused, those fiery eyes turning to her. She didn't say a word, waiting for Quinn to say what she needed to say.

"Thank you." There was more, somewhere, some _thing_ else that had to be said, but those were the only words she could find. The monster nodded slowly, then swept her wings down creating a massive gust and flinging her into the air. Quinn could only watch. Just as her mysterious saviour began to blend into the night sky, a thought struck her.

How had she known her name?

* * *

Quinn had entered the school with the intention of trying one more time to apologize to Rachel, buoyed by the strange feeling of relief she'd gotten after her interaction with the monster the night before. Unfortunately, when she finally saw the brunette poking around in her locker, that intention was washed away by the memory of Finn basically _telling_ her he wanted to cheat on her with the girl. Storming over, she slammed the girl's locker shut, barely missing catching her fingers in the clashing metal.

"Listen here, Treasure Trail, we're about to have a smack down."

Rachel stepped back, throwing her hands up, "I don't want to have a confrontation." She still felt good about the night before, she didn't want Quinn yelling at her and staining the memory, so she just dodged around her and walked away.

Quinn wasn't done though. She reached out and grabbed Rachel's wrist, spinning her around. " _Don't_ play stupid with me, Stubbles! I'm having Finn's baby and you need to _back off_." For a moment the flash of recognition that passed through Rachel's eyes almost caught her off guard, but she couldn't know the truth. Could she? "I'm asking you as _nicely_ as I possibly can. _Leave him alone._ "

"You're right." Quinn just looked at her, confused at the lack of denial, "I've helped you, not because it's the right thing to do, but because I had romantic ulterior motives."

Quinn shook her head, fighting down the wave of regret coursing through her. Of course, she did. She always had to step in, had to ruin _everything_ for Quinn.

"But just so we're _clear_ ," The blonde's head snapped back up, her eyes locking with Rachel's, "I have _never_ had any interest in _Finn_." The brunette slipped past her again, once more walking away and leaving Quinn behind.

" _Excuse_ me?" She did _not_ just say that!

Rachel rolled her eyes, determined to ignore the irate cheerleader hot on her heels. "I protect my friends, Quinn. You have given me no indication that you would like to be included in that list, but you are in a position to hurt them if your little _problem_ gets out. Besides, I am fully aware that you are Sue Sylvester's mole."

"Oh-ho, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about." The cheerleader tried getting in front of her, but Rachel just side-stepped and kept going.

"Sue's not on your side, Quinn." Reaching the stairs, she started up them, fully aware that it wouldn't dissuade the other girl from following. "She's not on anyone's side but her _own_. Can you imagine what she's going to do when she finds out about your _situation_?"

Rachel stopped just shy of the landing, turning to face the shocked smile of the blonde a few steps below her. "She'll probably try to rip off your uniform with her _bare hands_. Alright. Every time you whisper in her ear? You empower her to do more damage to the glee club. And right now? Glee club? Is all you have."

Quinn was speechless. She could only stand there on the stairs, staring up into the warm brown eyes looking down on her with such _pity_. She hated that she kept picking fights with the girl and trying to get her riled up, but she just couldn't help it, even when things turned as unpleasant as this one had.

"And if I were you? I'd recognize who my _true_ friends are." Rachel fought the Beast, folding her hands away and throwing her head back to regain her footing and keep it under wraps without showing the ire it was building towards the girl. "And I'd _practice_ a little bit more, because you _obviously_ have a lot you need to _express_."

"Oh, you have _no_ idea." She started to turn away with a sneer when she spotted exactly what she'd been looking for in those eyes the whole argument. A bright flash of chocolate fire in their depths.

Wait.

Chocolate _fire_?


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Rachel felt herself tense at the sight of Sue Sylvester walking into the choir room like she owned it. She'd not been comfortable around the older blonde since realizing the truth about her. Lima was _her_ territory. It had _always_ been her territory. She'd been here far longer than the entire _town_. And yet a _Faye_ managed to slip in and sink her teeth into it under her very _nose_.

She felt _insulted_ the more she thought about it. Insulted and... guilty. It was her fault, after all. She was the one who'd left, slipping away to Vegas last time. The one who'd left her people _defenseless_ from the encroachments of a Faye. That she'd left to hide her "death" from the town, to disguise that she was same Rachel, no matter how many "generations" passed, was no excuse.

So it was with mixed feelings that she watched the lanky coach settle onto the piano bench, lounging there as if she owned the room, one hand idly playing with her glasses. Will Schuester's entrance mere moments behind her barely dragged her attention away. That was, until he opened his mouth.

"Everyone, listen up please." The curly haired teacher clapped his hands together, gathering their attention, "Listen, I want to tell you all that... I'm sorry."

No one spoke. When he glanced back over his shoulder at Sue she just shrugged and gestured for him to continue, a decidedly bored expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, and I was wrong. I shouldn't have tried to ignore the minorities." He frowned, clasping his hands together earnestly in front of him, "That's not the way to address intolerance. And more than that, I was _wrong_."

Sue smirked, a soft bark of laughter escaping her pale lips at his groveling. She always loved a good grovel. And when it was the sly little muskrat of a man and his _disgustingly_ oily hair, well, then outstanding.

"Because you're _all_ minorities," he continued, deliberately ignoring the woman mocking him behind his back, " _you're_ in the glee club. Now, there are only twelve of you, and all you have is each other. So, it doesn't matter that," his eyes raked across the group, landing on the diva in the back row for a second, "Rachel is Jewish," the next victim was Finn, "that Finn is..."

"Unable to tell my rights from my lefts." The overgrown boy rolled his eyes and smiled at his own self-deprecation. Two girls found themselves unconsciously agreeing with each other that that was far from his worse quality, but neither spoke and the shared sentiment when unheeded. A brief shower of laughter coursed around the room at his words. He may have been an idiot, but he was a charisamatic one.

"Sure." Will smiled at the boy, grateful that someone was playing along, "Or that Santana is Latina, or tha _Quinn_ is..." his voice trailed off.

"Is pregnant." Sue's voice cut through the tension filling the room at the Spanish teacher's ill-conceived attempt at including the head cheerleader in his little exercise in inclusion.

The amusement that had been on everyone's face mere moments before drained away. While the baby might have been a secret from the rest of the school, it was no secret that Quinn had desperately hoped to keep the cheerleading coach from finding out. Sue pulled off her glasses, folding them in one hand, cool gaze cutting across the room to pierce hazel. She wasn't without compassion, it was an admirable trait in some, mostly weaker, species, but she did not allow it to control her.

"Sorry, Q. It'll be all over the blogosphere by this afternoon." Rachel couldn't help but stare at her, seeing the tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth, the unusual softness in her eyes. She couldn't help but think she saw something entirely like _regret_ in those blue eyes. "Now everybody knows." She paused and Rachel felt like she could almost _see_ the threads tying the pregnant teen to the Faye _snap_. "Including me."

The coach rose to her feet with a final, fleeting look of regret and walked out of the room. Quinn couldn't move from her chair, couldn't do _anything_ but gasp for air and stare blindly forward as her world was collapsing around her. Finn did nothing - not that she expected him too - and she could feel the eyes of the rest of the club on her, _judging_ her. She felt as if she could feel one particular set of brown eyes burning into her back, but she didn't turn back to look, afraid of what she'd see if she did.

She was surprised when Rachel suddenly burst to her feet, chair clattering to the ground behind her and stormed out of the room in Sue's wake. For the first time, she looked at something besides some random point on the floor. Her gaze darted to Rachel, brow furrowing as she watched her crash through the door in an angry swirl of brunette hair, and she couldn't help but wonder why the other girl was so angry.

She'd finally gotten everything she'd wanted. What was left for her to take away from Quinn now?

* * *

The sun had been gone from the sky for almost an hour before she heard it. A soft thump from behind her, near the trees. She brushed a lock of hair from her face, trying to glance back over her shoulder without looking like she was looking back, still listening, hoping that she wasn't just hearing things. No, wait. There. A quiet susurration, just barely louder than the water against the shore, that she was almost _certain_ was the sound of a wing brushing against a branch.

"Y-you can come out." She swallowed, suddenly nervous and angry with herself for it. "If you want."

She imagined she could feel the vibrations of each cautious step of taloned feet through the grass towards her, the very earth telling her that she'd guessed right as she sat upon it. But she dismissed the notion as a foolish fantasy. She barely repressed the tiny start of surprise at the sudden appearance of tanned flesh, over-long limbs and a gently twitching tail folding down into a crouch beside her.

The monster noticed though and shied away. "You're afraid. I should go." She began to rise to her feet.

"No!" Quinn blanched at the thought that the monster would leave again and leave her alone. Her hand reached out before she could think about it, resting on the thin forearm, feeling the corded muscles ripple under her fingers and the intense heat the demon gave off. "No, please. Don't go. I'm not afraid... I'm just... I was _startled_ and..." the nervous twitching of the monster's tail caught her eye, "you have a tail?"

"I'm not the most aerodynamically constructed being in existence." The monster's lips twitched slightly as if she wanted to smile, "I wouldn't be able to fly properly without it."

The appendage in question lifted into Quinn's vision, flaps flaring open fan-like from the sides of the otherwise snaky tail, demonstrating how it would be useful during flight. Not really thinking about it, the blonde reached out, lightly brushing the warm skin with her fingertips, surprised at the soft fur that seemed to cover it instead of the scales she was half expecting. The monster made a quiet noise, not quite a grunt and certainly not the roar she'd heard when she had confronted Terri on her behalf.

Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Quinn jerked her fingers back. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"It's alright." The other shrugged, pulling her tail back and coiling it about her ankle, directing her gaze out across the pond, "It's understandable that you'd be curious. I know I'm not exactly the most ordinary thing to find in a park."

Silence fell upon the two unlikely companions, but it didn't seem to bother either one. After a little while though, Quinn's voice broke the quiet.

"What _are_ you?" She bit her lip, worried about how that sounded. "I'm not trying to offend you or anything. It's just, you're," she waved her hand in the general direction of the monster. "you know. It's kinda... unexpected?"

She chuckled, a dark thing of low harmonics and notes on the barest edges of hearing. The sound sent of skirl of fear down the blonde's spine, but she had only to look into her companion's strange, fiery eyes to reassure herself. "I am a Daemon. This," she gestured broadly, somehow taking in not just the park but the whole of Lima with her clawed hand, "is my territory, my people. My _home_." She glanced sidelong at the blonde, "I protect my home."

Quinn felt as if another puzzle piece was slotting into place with the last line, but she couldn't see the picture yet. "Oh... I see."

"Why do you spend your evenings here?" Quinn shot a look at the Daemon. "You don't have to answer. I was just curious. I've seen you here often."

Quinn sighed, "I'm here... to escape. Everything is too much sometimes, and I just," she closed her eyes, one hand rubbing gently at where her abdomen was just starting to bell to hold the life growing inside of her, "I can't escape anymore." A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she shivered in the sudden chill gust whipping over the pond.

The Daemon hesitated a moment, then the wing closest to the girl unfolded slowly behind her before carefully curling around her, enfolding her in its warmth. Startled by the feeling of the heavy skin with its soft fur and unusual warmth settling about her shoulders, Quinn's face jerked upwards to peer at the monster beside her. She swallowed against the tears that threatened to spill at the quiet comfort of those strange eyes.

A clawed hand reached out and carefully rested upon Quinn's cheek, so gentle that the razor sharp claws barely dimpling her pale skin. "Believe me when I say this, Quinn." Hazel eyes darted back and forth, trying to read something, _anything_ in the balls of chocolate fire. "You _will_ get out of here. You are entirely too strong to let a minor setback like this keep you from your dreams."

Then the hand was gone and the wing and recoiled to its folded place on the Daemon's back. Almost before Quinn could register the absence of the other's warmth, she was standing several paces away, wings flicking out in preparation to leave. The blonde girl stumbled to her feet, taking a couple of hesitant steps forward, hugging her jacket tight around her.

"Wait... before you go," she caught her lower lip between her teeth, trying to decide which of the questions racing through her mind to ask. Finally, she hit on the one that was bothering her the most, "How do you know my name?"

The strange balls of fire that made up the Daemon's eyes turned to her and she thought for a fleeting instance that she saw something like sadness flit across the other's face. "I'm sorry, but if I told you that, you'd never speak with me again. And I am too weak."

Before Quinn could respond, powerful wings sent the air slamming into the ground, and the Daemon hurtled into the sky, quickly leaving the land-bound girl behind. She didn't see her run towards her, didn't see her fall to the ground. Didn't hear her ask if she'd see her again.

Quinn looked to the sky where her companion had vanished for long several minutes, one hand lightly pressed to where the other had touched her cheek, before pushing to her feet and beginning the slow walk back to her car.

Alone.

* * *

The last thing Rachel had been expecting when she walked into the girls' restroom was the sight of _Quinn Fabray_ trying, fairly ineffectually, to clean grape slushie out of her hair. Swallowing down the sudden anger she felt at the sight, she blocked the door shut and carefully made her way to the cheerleader's side. She couldn't miss the tears mixed in with the slush as she got closer and she made a mental note to have a chat with Puck about finding out who was responsible and ensuring it wouldn't happen again.

Rummaging her her bag for a moment, she came up with a bottle of club soda that she always kept handy in case of emergencies. "Here." She held the bottle out to the blonde who was looking at her with shock, "The stains will set if you don't treat them right away."

"Why are you helping me?" The wet paper towels Quinn'd been using to wipe her face covered the lower half of her face, but Rachel could hear the confused frown.

She shrugged, "I have my reasons. You really should take off the shell and work the stains out before they set."

"It's not like it matters," Quinn's eyes dropped to the towels she'd finally lowered, looking for all the world like she wanted to break down as she fumbled for her words and Rachel's heart broke to see her so distressed. "I'm sure Sue's going to be kicking me off the squad any day now. Can't have a pregnant cheerleader on the squad, after all." She swallowed back the tears brought about by finally saying it out loud and tried smiling at the irony.

Rachel hated watching Quinn torture herself, but she didn't think the taller girl would let her be the one to comfort her. She sighed, pulling a chair over and setting it against the next sink over and padding the edge of the sink with a red towel she pulled from her bag. "Here, sit down and let me help you get it out of your hair at least. It's rather difficult to do in a sink without assistance."

Quinn sat carefully on the chair, letting Rachel gently coax the tie out of her hair, releasing it from the high ponytail Sue required all of her Cheerios to wear. She let her eyes flutter shut at the warm, soothing feeling of the brunette's delicate fingers caressing her scalp. She knew she shouldn't let herself take comfort from the other girl, that she didn't deserve it, but she just couldn't help it.

"Why are you so nice to me, Rachel? I've been awful to you."

The words were soft, but the weight they carried was far greater. Rachel's fingers first stilled, then left her head completely and Quinn squeezed her eyes shut trying to hold back the tears that threatened as she strained her ears to hear Rachel walking away. To hear her leaving her behind like she always did.

She wouldn't cry. She was a Fabray, she had her pride. She would _not_ cry. She _deserved_ it. But, _God_ , it would hurt _so much_.

But the sounds she was expecting never came. Instead, her nose was caressed by the sharply clean scent of eucalyptus as the hands returned, gently massaging the shampoo into her hair. She almost cried then in sheer relief, but she took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh, clinging to her equilibrium by the skin of her teeth.

Rachel let another sigh escape her lips before she finally answered Quinn's question. "I know you have. But... you're my teammate, Quinn. Maybe that's not quite a friend, but it's close enough." She turned on the water, gently cupping it over Quinn's head to rinse the soap out. "I protect my friends."

"I don't deserve it. Not your protection, not any of it."

The brunette pursed her lips, shutting the water off and helping Quinn to sit up, wrapping a towel around her head. "You do, Quinn, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You deserve all of it and more." She rubbed the towel over the blonde's head, drying her hair.

For a moment, they're both quiet. Rachel finished drying the blonde's hair and carefully started packing her things away in her bag. Quinn just sat there, staring blankly at the floor, her arms wrapped protectively around her abdoment.

"I'm sorry."

Rachel looked up, brown eyes catching hazel. "You don't have to apologize," she turned back to her bag, zipping it closed. "Not to me."

At the familiar words, Quinn's head darted up, her brows furrowed in confusion. For a second she thought, but no, it couldn't possibly be. So instead of the question on the tip of her tongue, what slipped out was, "Are we really starting this again?"

Rachel smiled, but there was an edge of sadness, "Only if you want to, Quinn." At the cheerleader's glare she held up her hands palm out, "I'm just saying it's not necessary."

"Why not?"

Rachel hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, glancing away thoughtfully for a moment before turning to look Quinn in the eyes with a small smile. "I forgave you a long time ago, Quinn."

At those simple words, the crumbling dam holding back her tears burst open and she doubled forward in the chair with a sob. Her entire body shook, trembling with the force of her otherwise quiet cries. Rachel's eyes widened at the sight and her bag thumped to the floor, forgotten in her haste to try and comfort the girl.

Rachel's arms wrapped around the shuddering blonde, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her cheek nestled into Quinn's hair, eyes closed and whispering "It'll be okay, Quinn" over and over, as one hand rubbed ever so delicately against her back. A couple of moments later, Quinn's arms jerked out almost as if they were under the control of another, so jerky were the movements, and wrapped around Rachel's waist.

Neither one knew how long they stayed like that, wrapped in each other. But eventually Quinn's tears died away and Rachel stepped back and grabbed her back before unblocking the door and heading out into the hall without another word. Quinn watched her go, her lower lip caught between her teeth, struck with both a strong sense of deja vu and the renewal of her intense desire to have Rachel Berry as her friend. She wasn't her friend, she knew that, but she _wanted_ her to be.

And, _damn_ , but if Brittany wasn't right about those hugs!


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

"I guess they're not coming," Schuester's shoulders slumped in disappointment at the boys from the football team, "I'm really sorry, guys"

Quinn's attention went to Rachel's sad expression at his words. For the first time, she was actually grateful for the ridiculous sunglasses Ms. Pillsbury had suggested, because she knew there was no way that Rachel could actually see how much it bothered her that the guys were letting them down. Or how much it bothered her to see how sad _Puckerman_ not showing up was making Rachel.

"I can't believe this. I thought they were our _friends_." Mercedes' look of loss hurt to see, "How can they just _abandon_ us?"

For a long moment, no one could do anything more than look at the floor or stare hopefully at the door. Then the soft shuffling of footsteps outside the door caught their attention, dragging the eyes that had refused to look to the door. Mike and Matt stepped inside, a bit hesitant at first, then more confident as they saw the happy looks on their teammates' faces. Brittany and Santana actually ran across the intervening space to wrap the boys in hugs.

"Hey," Santana laughed, hugging the taller of the two boys, "I'm glad you made it."

"Like you had anything to worry about."

"You scared me!" Brittany poked at Mike, with a frown.

"Hey, I made it!" They rejoined the group still looking towards the door, hoping for the two missing boys to walk through the portal.

The soft clunk of the clock on the wall ticking off the minutes dropped morale a bit further with every sound as no one came through. Rachel glanced at Quinn, hiding behind her sunglasses, a couple of times, wanting to offer comfort, but not sure how. And besides, it wasn't like Puck had joined them. She knew he was her dear friend, but she was never entirely sure how much he would do to stay on top of the social pack.

Then he was there. Walking through the door with his hands in his pockets and the same sheepish smile that had made her fall for him all those many years before. She couldn't help the smile that blossomed at the sight of him in his white shirt and jeans. She left the group behind, crossing to meet him half way. Behind her, Quinn just watched, grateful again that the glasses hid what she was feeling from the group as she watched Rachel run to mohawked boy.

"Are you sure about this, Noah?" Her voice was soft and he knew she was giving him an out, just like she always did. She might be a scary monster sometimes, and a girl - a _hot_ girl, Rach was still a total Jew-babe - but she always looked out for him. "Choosing us over the team means you might get a slushie in your face every day."

He glanced at the group, then back at her, his confident smirk firmly in place. "Bring it."

She smiled and leaned into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. It was moments like this that he really felt proud of himself for being able to be the man she wanted him to be. Moments when she let her guard down and allowed _him_ to be the one protecting for once.

"Where's Finn?"

And for the third time, Quinn was grateful for the _stupid_ sunglasses.

* * *

She'd heard rumors about Sue being on the rampage almost as soon as she'd walked in the doors of the school. A text from an irritated Santana and another from a very confused Brittany only confirmed it. So she was trying to avoid the irate coach, taking an entirely longer than necessary route to her first period class to avoid the older woman's normal prowl.

She hadn't been planning to wear the sunglasses again, but Finn had cornered her in the parking lot and asked why she wasn't. The big oaf had looked so hurt that she didn't want to run around _inside_ wearing _sunglasses_ that she'd just sighed and put them on. And the damn things were _dark_. She could barely see where she was going.

Which was why she didn't see one Sue Sylvester bearing down on her like a freight train of teror until it was too late.

"Q! Take off those sunglasses," the woman made vague gestures in her direction that probably would have made more sense if she'd, you know, _not_ been wearing sunglasses. Stupid Finn and his stupid pouting, "I want to look in your eyes when I give you this piece of business."

Quinn reached up and carefully pulled the glasses off her face. She was worried about what her coach had to say to her, but at the same time, she'd been almost expecting a confrontation since Sue's little bomb about knowing about her pregnancy. She just didn't want to think about it.

"You're off the Cheerios."

She'd known it was coming, but the words still hit like a ton of bricks slamming into her sternum.

"I can't have a pregnant girl on my squad. You're a disgrace."

She could only stand their as Sue stormed past, gaping like a fish out of water and trying to hold back the tears that wanted to course down her cheeks. Around her everything was happy and cheerful, but it just felt like she still had the stupid, _stupid_ sunglasses on still. She hated the sunglasses. Damn things didn't help with _anything_. Just made everything worse.

After a while the hall cleared and she made her way to the locker room. She'd change, turn in the uniform. But she wouldn't be going to classes today. She needed the solitude of the pond.

She needed a _friend_.

* * *

It was just after sunset when she heard the beat of leather wings, felt the wind of the downdraft flowing over her as her strange friend settled to the ground behind her. She didn't move from her huddled seat on the hillside, arms wrapped around knees, face buried in the soft, grey cotton sleeves of her sweatshirt. She didn't have a coat any more - Sue had demanded even the jacket be returned when she'd gone to her office to turn in her uniform - and it was cold in the park.

She heard the careful steps behind her, felt the brush of warm skin against her side as the monster settled behind her. She really needed to think of a better way to describe her... her what? Could she really define something when the entire situation was beyond belief? She was pregnant, sitting in a park after being kicked of the Cheerios while chatting up six and a half feet of _monster_ , was there _anything_ normal about this situation?

She laughed - a short bitter sounding mockery of a real laugh - and shivered at the contrast between the warmth radiating from the Daemon at her side and the chill air. Without a word, the heavy blanket that was the Daemon's wing slipped around her shoulder, a slender arm just under it tugging her into her side - claws curled protectively in a loose fist. Quinn didn't think about it, just burrowed into the comfort being offered, quiet tears trickling down her cheeks.

For a while they just sat there. Quinn desperately needing someone willing to just sit there and hold her while she broke apart. The Daemon willing to offer it. Finally, the rough harmonics of the voice that was becoming a strange comfort to the pregnant teen broke the companionable silence.

"You didn't attend classes today."

Quinn shook her head, never lifting it from where she'd burrowed her face into the Daemon's shoulder. She'd stopped questioning where her companion found her information. "Sue kicked me off the Cheerios. I couldn't stay. Couldn't deal with everyone laughing at the stupid, knocked-up, _former_ head cheerleader."

"I'm sure not everyone would have laughed at you." The soft tail curled gently around Quinn's waist in an odd hug. "And you're not stupid, Quinn."

The girl laughed, another bitter bark, "If I wasn't stupid, I wouldn't be in this situation. I'm just another stupid, fat statistic. Teen pregnancy's on the rise, you know."

"Believe me, Quinn, you're not stupid." The Daemon's free hand cupped the blonde's face, pulling her up to look at her face, "You're a lovely, highly intelligent person. And you're not fat, you're carrying a _life_ within you." The hand drifted from her cheek to rest for a moment on her abdomen with the same careful gentleness that she was coming to associate with everything the monster did around her, "You could have given it up, but you didn't. That takes a lot of courage. It's an amazing thing, knowing that a part of you will be out there, that someone will love you unconditionally and will remember you when you're no longer there."

Quinn swallowed hard, blinking against the tears that blurred her vision. "How could you know?"

"I know."

" _No one_ knows! Everyone just _thinks_ they do! I thought you were _different_!" As soon as the words left her lips, she knew they were a mistake. She was just lashing out at anything that presented itself as a target and she desperately wished she could take the words back as the warmth that had surrounded her vanished.

When she looked up, she saw the Daemon standing above her, looking down at her with an unreadable expression on the harsh planes of her face. For a long moment, she just stared, certain she'd never see the other again after what she'd said. But a large hand just reached down to her.

"Give me your hand." The voice almost sounded human, almost sounded so _familiar_ that Quinn couldn't help but reach up and allow the massive paw to swallow her smaller hand in its grip.

The Daemon pulled her to her feet and tugged her close, wrapping her arms about the girl. "Wrap your arms about my neck and hold tight."

Confused, Quinn did as instructed, only to let out a short shriek as a sudden swooping sensation made her stomach feel like it was dropping down to somewhere beneath her feet as the ground vanished. Another sickening swoop and she buried her face into the comforting warmth of the spandex covered shoulder in front of her face. It seemed like the nauseating sensation of dropping only to swoop back up continued forever before their was a strange shift in the muscles under her tightly laced fingers and the horrible feelings stopped assaulting her.

She could feel the wind whipping against her hair, tugging it from her ponytail with icy fingers so cold that she knew she'd freeze to death if it wasn't for the incredible warmth radiating from the body holding her. If it wasn't for the warm sensation of safety emanating from the arms wrapped securely about her, she wasn't sure she have had the courage to do anything more than clench her teeth together so tightly that her jaw ached, terrified scream frozen in her throat. After a long moment of no stomach-dropping swoops, she cautiously pried her eyes open and her face from the shoulder, turning her head to see what was going on.

That was when she realized just _how_ high they were. When she realized they were _flying_. A tiny yelp of fear slipped through her lips and she burrowed back into the shoulder that had provided such comfort earlier.

She more felt than heard the amused vibrations echoing from the Daemon's chest before she turned her head down to the blonde huddling into her and spoke into her ear. "What's wrong?"

"We're _flying_!"

"It seemed the most expedient way of reaching our destination."

The blonde mumbled something that sounded distinctly like "If God intended humans to fly, He'd have given us wings."

The Daemon laughed again, "Well, He gave _me_ wings, so that should count for something."

And then, before Quinn even had the chance to really come terms with what was happening, the wings had folded around them and they were _plummeting_ from the sky. She couldn't be blamed for the wail of terror it ripped out of her before their was another sickening swoop - this one much harsher than the previous ones - and the arms were loosening from around her waist, setting her gently on the ground.

Trembling from the adrenaline still coursing through her body from the brief - yet freaking _terrifying_ \- flight, she took a couple steps away and barked her shins on a stone, nearly tripping over it. Looking around, she realized that they were in a very old, very over-grown - very _abandoned_ \- graveyard. The few stones still standing were marked with dark streaks of age, the words obscured with lichen and moss where they hadn't been worn away over time, many others were broken or sunken so far into the earth that only a dip in the ground showed where a person had been once interred. In a few cases, a tree grown up through the grave, partially subsuming the stone that had marked the head.

"W-where are we?"

"A graveyard." The Daemon didn't offer up much more in way of explanation, instead stalking towards a small stone off to the side, one of the few intact ones remaining.

Quinn carefully picked her way across to where the Daemon stood looking down silently at the pale stone. "Why are we here?" Her voice was hushed, though whether it was just confusion or respect for the forgotten departed, she wasn't sure.

Orbs of chocolate fire turned to her. "I wanted to show you something." She gestured towards the stone, stepping back so that Quinn could kneel before it, brushing gentle fingers across the battered stone, trying to read the words that had been carved their long before.

" _Here lies Issac ben Noah - proud father, brave son. Alav ha-shalom. December seventh, nineteen oh three._ "

The voice rumbling from behind her was marked with sadness. She looked back over her shoulder, fingertips never quite leaving the stone. "I don't understand."

"My son." The Daemon nodded towards the stone, her cheeks glistening in the bright moonlight illuminating the clearing. "I _know_."

Quinn gaped at her for a moment, turning back and forth from the stone to her... friend. Finally she stumbled to her feet and lurched towards the _woman_ standing there looking at the grave of her child with such pain that Quinn just couldn't bare it. Her arms slipped around the Daemon's waist, hugging her tight, her head on the woman's shoulder.

"I'm sorry." She whispered desperate for the other to understand, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

The Daemon gently caressed the back of her head, accepting the embrace though her fiery eyes never left the stone. She'd barely ever come here since the funeral. It always felt like her heart could never heal when she visited her children's graves or those of her grandchildren, like constantly ripping the scab from the wound. So she stayed away. But Quinn had needed to see this, needed to know someone she could talk to _did_ understand what bearing a life meant.

"There is no need for any more apologies, Quinn." She swallowed against the tears that still trickled from her eyes, sizzling where the flames of her eyes licked the moisture away. "It was many years ago and I was able to see him grow into a good man before he died. The pain is no longer as sharp. I just wanted you to see that I," she paused, the tears thickening her tongue, "understood."

Quinn released her from the hug, looking from the stone to her companion and back. "Nineteen oh three," she breathed, the significance of the date finally sinking in. "You're..."

"Yes." Taking a deep breath, the Daemon opened her wings and arms, "Come, hold on to my neck again and I'll return you to the park. A place of the dead is no place for a beautiful girl like yourself."

Quinn felt the blush coloring her cheeks - though she wasn't quite certain _why_ \- as she wrapped her arms around the Daemon's neck again, hesitating only momentarily before she realized that she didn't know where she was so she'd have to experience the stomach-lurching flight again if she wanted to get back home. The arms wrapped around her again and she buried her face in the shoulder in preparation of the first nausea-inducing swoop. She'd thought that morning sickness was bad, but the only thing keeping her from losing the few pieces of dry toast she'd managed to keep down was a strong desire not to puke on the person keeping them aloft.

The nauseating swoop and drop lasted a little longer this time, and the terrifying _plummet_ seemed to come sooner, but soon the Daemon's wings were sweeping out, catching the air and slowing their decent until they stood upon the grass in the park once more. This time though, before releasing Quinn to stumble back, the Daemon wrapped arms and wings about them both, hugging her tight and murmuring soft words of "It'll be okay, Quinn" into her hair. Quinn basked in the warmth provided by the strange embrace, leaning comfortably into her chest for a moment before the wings swept away and the Daemon stepped back, releasing her and preparing to fly away again.

"Wait!"

It was starting to become a habit, her begging the Daemon to wait before she vanished into the night sky again as she were never there. As always, she stood there, head canted slightly to the side as she awaited whatever question the blonde had for her on this night. Quinn stepped slowly towards her, reaching out to lightly brush her cheek with trembling fingers. Swallowing past the fear at what she was about to ask, she spoke.

"Who _are_ you?"

The Daemon's eyes dimmed and brightened again, something that Quinn had learned during their nighttime meetings was the equivalent of a blink from a regular person. She stepped away, flicking her wings out and flexing her powerful legs, but her eyes never left Quinn. The blonde wished fervently that those eyes could be normal for one moment so she could see what the other was feeling, see _some_ sign that would help her make sense of all the clues she was being bombarded with.

"You already know."

And then she was gone.


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

"So you," he tossed a swig of beer back, using the moment to collect his emotions, "you took her, huh?"

The brunette beside him nodded, fingers playing with the label of the bottle dangling from one hand between her legs, dark eyes on the bottle and not looking at him. He nods, staring up at the sky. He'd met her at the clearing, his pickup parked at the trailhead a half-mile back through the woods surrounding them, waiting to carry them home and allowing her to risk shifting back to her human form so far from home. She wore his flannel shirt over the spandex suit she wore when in Daemon form, but it wasn't nearly as warm as her other self's natural heat.

"H-how is it? The yard, you know?"

"It's... forgotten," her voice was soft and he barely resisted the urge to put an arm around her shoulders to try and comfort her, "overgrown and everyone there is just... forgotten."

"Not everyone." The quiet insistence in his words made her glance up at him, brown eyes meeting brown in the moonlight, " _we_ remember. They're not forgotten."

She let out a shaky breath, leaning into him, "You're right. But it was so... hard."

This time he didn't resist the urge and let a long arm settle over her, tucking her into his side like he had the last time they both had stood in that abandoned graveyard. "Then why'd you do it?"

"She needed to know." She swallowed, "she had to know someone understood and words wouldn't do it. I had to, Noah. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If you think she needed to know," he gave her shoulders a squeeze, "then I believe you."

"Thank you, Noah." She hadn't realized how much she needed his approval of sharing Issac with Quinn until he offered it.

For a while, they just sat in companionable silence, drinking their beer and relishing each other's company. They'd been each other's touchstone so many times over the decades that every time they came into each other's lives, they just fell into the same comfortable roles. No matter how the personae they presented to the world changed, to each other, they were always simply Noah and Rachel and for them it was enough. It wasn't any wonder that Quinn would get the wrong idea about them.

"You should tell her."

"I can't," she sighed, snuggling a little closer, his Beast keeping him a bit warmer even in human form, "if I just tell her, she'll leave."

"She's stronger than you think, Rach." His fingers threaded gently through her hair as he spoke.

Rachel sighed, sitting up. "I know, but..."

He waited, knowing she would finish her thought when she was ready. He wouldn't push. And, it took several long minutes, but in the end his patience was rewarded by two softly spoken words that explained so much.

"I'm afraid."

* * *

"Good morning, Noah."

"Morning, Rach." He shut the locker, glancing over at the little brunette for a moment before offering his arm with a smirk. She smiled almost impishly before accepting. "What can I do for you this morning?"

"It's about Quinn," he nodded but didn't speak, encouraging her to continue, "she's having trouble paying the costs of her doctor visits. I want you to help."

"Rach, I'm not like you," his brow furrowed as he frowned over at her, pulling her into a secluded corner, "I'm not nearly as good with cash as you."

"I know," A small, brown envelope was pressed into his hand, "That's a thousand, it's got to help. Tell her it's from you."

"But it's not." He muttered, trying to hand the money back, "You should give it to her."

"That doesn't matter and she'd never accept it from me," Rachel folded his fingers back over the envelope before stepping back, "just take care of her."

He watched her walk away before pulling the cash from the envelope and stashing it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

* * *

Quinn closed her locker, in a strangely upbeat mood that she was attributing to her evenings spent by the pond. Thankfully, there'd been no more impromptu flights, but the strange being she was starting to regard as her closest friend always managed to appear soon after dark whenever she went there to get away. They'd talked for nearly two hours last night, and she couldn't help but be amazed at the insight the other woman - and the Daemon was _obviously_ a woman - had into her life.

"Hey, wait up." The husky male voice came from behind her as she stepped away from her locker.

She glanced over her shoulder, curious as to who was talking, only to spot Puck striding towards her. Stopping, she turned to face him, in a good enough mood to tolerate the mohawked boy. He quickly caught up to her and looked around carefully before reaching into his jacket, pulling out a stack of bills that made her eyes widen at the sight.

"I cracked open the piggy bank," he hated lying, but Rachel had been adamant, "it's for you. Well, it's for _it_."

"It is a she."

"Cool." He couldn't help the little smile that blossomed on his face at that bit of knowledge. He'd never had a daughter, only Issac. "I told you I wasn't a deadbeat."

Quinn looked down at the money, her features twisting, torn between wanting to accept the money as a way of fixing her immediate problems and refusing it because she couldn't accept Puck _or_ his money. "Look, Puck, this is really sweet, but..."

"I-I can get more." He might hate doing it, but he knew that Rachel would come through if he asked. "People call me a screwup because... I think school's for suckers, but I got ambition. Get us a house, some stuff. Furniture. We could be a family."

She hated this. Hated how pathetic he was making himself for someone who just didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any of it, not Rachel being nice, not the Daemon, not Puck. None of it. "Finn is your _best _friend."__

"He'd be pissed for a while," okay, probably more than a while, "but then when he realized that he didn't have to deal with all this, he'd bake me a damn cake."

She looked at the money again, more and more tempted until a horrible idea hits her. "You stole from the cupcake fund."

He blinked, shocked. "No, I didn't."

She just stared at him, one brow slightly raised in expectation of him breaking down.

"Look, I really didn't. I might be an ass, but I'm not going to steal from a kid in a wheelchair." He frowned, irritated that she'd think so little of him.

"Then where'd it come from? Puck, your last offer was eighteen dollars, that's a lot more."

"I... I can't tell you."

"Then I can't accept it." She turned to walk away, but he reached out and caught her arm.

"No, wait, look, I..." he looked around, spotting and empty classroom and ducking inside pulling her along with him. Once inside, he dropped her arm and ran his fingers over his mohawk. "Look, straight truth?"

She just stared again.

"She's gonna be so pissed if she finds out." He muttered to himself, working his courage up. Quinn just leaned against a desk, patiently waiting for the answer that was supposed to magically make everything better.

"I got it from Rachel. She told me to give it to you this morning."

The answer was not what she'd been expecting. She couldn't help the little squeak that escaped her as she bolted upright, eyes wide. That couldn't be the truth, it had to be a lie. Rachel wouldn't go out of her way to help her. She couldn't.

"You gotta believe me, Quinn. She'd do just about anything to help you, but she doesn't think you'll let her. Please."

"I can't... I can't. Oh, god, Rachel?" Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she couldn't do more than brush at them ineffectually with the hand pressed against her lips as if to hold in the scream desperately wanting to rip its way out. "Rachel did that? For me?"

Puck just nodded, "don't tell her that I told you, but she really likes you, Quinn." He pushed he money across the table towards her and she laid a trembling hand a top it. "I might not understand it all, but you're important to her, okay? That's why... I haven't been trying harder. To be a family. With you. And the baby. You understand?"

Quinn couldn't find her words, just nodded slowly, fingers curling around the stack of bills under her hand.

"Take the money, Quinn. Even if that lunkhead you call a boyfriend gets a job, he won't make enough to pay for everything." Puck shoved his hands into his pockets, frowning as he looked aside, "So, let Rach help, you know. She wants to and... it'll make her happy. To know you're being taken care of and stuff. Okay?"

Quinn swallowed harshly, trying to rein in the overflowing emotions and get control again. The first time she spoke, her voice cracked horribly, the next was a little better. "Okay."

She took the money off the table, slipping it into her pocket and wiping the tears away before stepping to the door.

"Hey," Puck called just before she headed out. She just barely turned her head towards him to indicate she was listening, "please, don't tell Rachel I told you any of this, okay?"

She paused, thinking it over before nodding her head slowly once. "Okay." She stepped out into the hall just in time to see Finn wheeling around the corner.

"Hey!" He looked so stupidly earnest wheeling over to her that it'd be endearing, if she actually loved him. He grabbed the envelope from his lap and thrust it at her. "Here."

"What's this?" She accepted it, flipping it over in her hands.

"I got a job." He looked so proud of himself that she just didn't have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn't make a difference. There was no way a minimum wage part-time job would pay enough to cover even the sonogram bill. "Gonna need to stay in my wheelchair as long as I'm working there but," a breath hissed out from between his teeth, "screw it. It's worth it." He grinned up at her, "can I give you a lift to rehearsal?"

She swallowed back a new rush of tears as she suddenly wondered what it would have been like to see an earnest Rachel smiling up at her and knowing she couldn't, so she smiled for her boyfriend instead. She stepped forward and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He grinned happily and spun them about, wheeling them off down the hall.

She couldn't help but look back at Puck and wonder how things would be different if she'd just been honest.

* * *

Just as she always did when life took another curve for the unbearable lately, Quinn found herself in the park, sitting on the hillside overlooking the small pond once more, waiting for the sun to set. The sky was just lighting up with bright reds, yellows and oranges, streaks of purple drifting here and there as the sun began to lower itself down past the horizon with agonizing slowness. She jerked around when she heard the crunch of gravel underfoot from the edge of the path above her, the brightness of the sky telling her that it wasn't her friend.

"So this is the pathetic little hole you've been dragging yourself off to." Santana dumped her duffel bag to the ground and flopped down, using it as a back rest, next to the confused blonde. "Not bad, I guess, if you want to mope."

"W-what...?" Hazel eyes darting between the brunette and the darkening sky, just knowing that the other girl being there would keep her friend away. "Why...?"

"B said you've been hanging out here after school." She looked around, frowning at the slightly overgrown feel to the park, it was one of the lesser known ones in the town after all, "Q, this place is like homeless central. I'm surprised you haven't been mugged, raped and murdered yet. Not necessarily in that order."

"It's not that bad." Quinn leaned her chin on her crossed arms, gazing out over the water, "No one's ever bothered me." Not that anyone would, she thought, considering her frequent companion.

"Don't mean they won't." Santana gave her a sidelong look. "Hey, I might be a bitch and all," she got distracted for a moment by Brittany coming up and dropping a light kiss on her lips before walking over to sit on the other side of Quinn, "but I don't actually want you getting, like, bad hurt or anything, Quinn."

"Someone wants to hurt, Quinn?" The lanky blonde looked distressed at the thought, throwing an arm over the other blonde's shoulders and giving her a hug. "You won't let them, right, San?"

"Nobody's gonna hurt Q, Britt." The dark girl smiled encouragingly at Brittany before frowning at the girl between them, "So long as she stops being so dumb as to hang out in old ass parks after dark."

"I just... I like it here, okay?" Quinn leaned into the friendly hug Brittany offered. "It's quiet and... there's someone I can talk to here."

"I like it here too," Brittany smiled at the other blonde, hugging her a little tighter, "I come to watch all the little baby ducks in the spring."

"Someone to... Quinn! Please, tell me you're not having deep freaking conversations with some freaking homeless person."

Quinn turned one of her classic raised eyebrows one the newest head cheerleader. "Seriously, Santana? You think really I'm so pathetic I'd start chatting up some filthy old dude with a shopping cart?"

The brunette just shrugged, a smirk firmly on her face, "Hey, you're the one hanging out in hobo central."

"San, that's really mean."

"Just calling them as I see them." She shrugged, hands wide, "Not my fault Q's all mopey and shit. So, where's your friend, Q?"

"Yeah, Quinn!" Brittany bounced beside Quinn, clapping her hands, "Is Rachel coming?"

"Rachel?" Quinn coughed suddenly, surprised and a little overwhelmed by the sudden tightening in her chest. That hope of seeing the little brunette coming over the hill to sit beside her had only grown since their run-in in the restroom. She hadn't had a chance to talk to the girl since and she was really not enjoying the feeling that Rachel was avoiding her.

Santana shrugged, leaning back against her bag again. "Why would Mighty Mouse be coming, Britt?"

"Cause they hugged and stuff, so they're talking, like, friends and stuff now right?"

"Really, Q?" The brunette bumped shoulders with the blonde in surprise. "You and Mighty Mouse?"

"Whatever, S. We just talked once. It's not like we're friends or anything." Quinn glared at her but it was only half-hearted at best, "And what is with that nickname?"

"Rachel's awesome now." Brittany nodded sagely, drawing Quinn's attention, "she totally got up on Azimio when he was mean to me. It was really hot."

"What the hell? Where have I been?"

"Here apparently." Santana smirked, crossing her legs out in front of her, "With your mysterious new friend."

"Don't be all jealous, San, it doesn't look good on you." Quinn curled into herself, chin on her knees again, "She just gets me, you know?"

"And we don't?"

"So you're pregnant too now?" The smaller blonde rolled her head to glare tiredly at the smirking brunette lounging beside her. "Wow, copycat much?"

"Don't be a bitch, Q," Brittany gave her shoulders another squeeze, "it's not nice. We just want to know about your friend."

"She usually meets me here around now," The pregnant teen looked sadly at the horizon, the sun now well past setting, "But she's shy. I don't think she'll come with you two here."

"Too bad. I'd like to see who's got you all wound up. Wasn't expecting you to go for some homeless chick, but hey, whatever rocks your world."

"Ew, San. Just... ew."

Brittany leaned over and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder. "I really wanted to meet your new friend, Q."

The sound started low, rolling over the water, a harsh, low sound of mixed harmonics that raised the hairs on the back of the neck and sent shivers down the spine. It was a sound of rage and menace, a dark growl inspiring terror in those who heard it. A quick shuffle of gravel came from behind them, drawing the attention of all three girls.

They looked behind them in time to see a dark shadow come out of the sky and slam into the bearded man who'd been coming off the path towards them, something glinting in his hand as the growl increased in volume until it was a roar. The man shrieked in terror as he was smashed into the shadows of the tree line. From the trees came horrible sounds, wet crunching, brittle snapping, and his screaming. The man's screams just seemed to go on and on until they finally faded into gurgles and dull choking sounds before finally dying away all together.

Quinn was the first to turn her eyes back to the pond. She swallowed harshly, steadying herself. She knew what had happened to that man, knew who had happened. She felt like a terrible person. She'd just heard a man die - die horribly - and she didn't feel anything. Not outrage, not horror, nothing. Except... safe. A man had just died in a terrible fashion and she only felt safe.

She was a horrible, horrible person.

Santana didn't even turn back, just rose slowly to her knees and gathered her bag, backing away from the treeline. Brittany was frozen, staring wide-eyed and horrified at the trees at the top of the hill.

"Q-Quinn... it's not safe here." The dark girl's voice was unusually fearful as she got her feet under her, slowly rising to her feet, "we should... we got to get outta here."

Quinn didn't respond, just stayed sitting on the hill, staring out over the water looking far calmer than she really felt.

Brittany turned to her and Santana, blue eyes wide with fear. "Quinn, what's going on?"

"Q, seriously, we need to get the hell out of here like yesterday." Santana gripped her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the treeline.

Quinn finally looked up at Santana, a single brow raised. "Why?"

"The hell? Did you not see what the hell just happened? Dude just got eaten or something!"

"It's okay. She won't let anything happen to me."

"Quinn, it's not okay. It's not. Come on," Santana grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet before reaching out to help Brittany up, "we're getting out of here and going somewhere safe."

They pulled her away, staying closer to the pond than the trees, Brittany on one side, Santana on the other. Quinn couldn't help but look back, lower lip caught between her teeth. Just before the trees went out of view, she caught a glimpse of dark hair and tanned skin, twin balls of chocolate fire burning intensely from the darkness.

A man had just died. She should feel terrible. But one look at those eyes, and she only felt...

Protected.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Chapter Twenty-One**

She felt so lost.

It'd only been an hour - maybe two - since Santana and Brittany had dragged her away from the park. Since she didn't have anywhere else to go that would let her hide away as effectively as the park, she'd ended up getting home much sooner than she usually did and her mother had decided that it would be an excellent opportunity to try on the pristine white gown they'd picked out the month before. She almost felt sick looking at herself in the mirror, knowing they still thought she was their precious, _innocent_ little girl.

She wasn't innocent. She hadn't been for months. She wasn't sure she ever had been.

"Sweetie," her mother reached out and grabbed her arm, smiling at her with inebriated fondness. She could practically _smell_ the gin on the older woman's breath, see it in glazed brown eyes, "I am _so_ proud of you. The Chastity Ball is _so_ important to your father."

Quinn could only smile half-heartedly as she watched her mother take yet another healthy gulp of her gin and tonic. It had to be the third one that evening that she'd seen - the good Lord only knew how many she'd had before Quinn had gotten home. Yet even as drunk as her mother might have been, she couldn't help the tremor of fear shivering through her when the older blonde stood and started to zip up the dress.

"Huh. That's odd," she tried desperately to hide the fear from her face as her mother looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror, "we had this custom made a month ago."

"I had a really big lunch today at school," she prayed - oh how she prayed - that her mother's inebriated state would let her believe the lie, let her see past how her body was changing as the child Puck had planted within her grew. "Really big tacos."

For a moment, the look of disbelief on her mother's face just screamed at her how she'd failed, how they _knew_ and nothing would ever be the same. But the her arms came up around her shoulders as her mother embraced her from behind with a broad smile.

"No worries, sweetie, I'll just take it down to the tailor tomorrow," the older woman brushed aside a loose lock of Quinn's hair as she spoke, "we'll let it out a little bit. The problem here, honey, is," she snagged a yellow tailor's tape measure from her sewing box and turned back to her daughter, "you know, I - I just don't think you've been getting enough exercise since you quit the Cheerios."

As the tape went her waist, she had a horrible moment of realization. Her mother _knew_. It was so obvious - so _terribly_ obvious - from how she was talking, the way she stumbled over her words. The woman might be a raging alcoholic, but she didn't show it in her speech, she had far too much practice for _that_. So if she was stumbling with her words, it was because she _knew_ and Quinn was terrified.

"Am I right?"

An out. Oh, blessed _God_ , she was offering an _excuse_ , something they could placate her father with. "Yeah!" Quinn barely held back the sigh of relief, "Yeah, that's right."

"You used to spend _hours_ every day doing back flips and high kicks," the manic joy slipped from her mother's face and she walked around to look directly into her daughter's eyes, "and now you spend all your free time on a stool in the dark singing show tunes. Do you know how many calories you burn singing?" She reached out, lifting her daughter's chin, "Hmm? Not very many."

"Judy!" The voice came from the other room with all the drunken glee her father could muster for his favorite conservative talking head. "Glenn Beck is on!"

"Oh! Yee!" And like that the moment of understanding that she might have had with her mother was gone, sweeped away under the rug like all awkward moments were around her father.

"Oh! Wait! Hold on, hold on!" The blond man rambled into the room, covering his eyes with a splayed hand in some overly dramatic attempt at humor.

Judy laughed, "You're so silly!"

"No, I don't wanna see!"

Quinn smiled, grateful that he was still in his "happy" stage of drinking. "Daddy, it's not like we're getting _married_."

"I don't wanna -" he trailed off in a soft sigh as he took in the sight of his youngest daughter in her gown, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, "oh, _look_ at you. Speaking of getting married, how's that boy you've been dating?"

"Yeah," he joined his wife, leaning against the back of the sofa, as she spoke, "yeah, he's not, um, _pressuring_ you at all, is he?"

Again she was struck by the realization that her mother was aware of her condition, but she somehow managed to keep it from her face. "No! No, he's a gentleman."

Her father nodded with a grin. "I'm glad to hear that. It's why I'm inviting him over for dinner on Sunday."

"Oh!" Judy kept her eyes on Quinn, " _wonderful_."

It wasn't wonderful. It was _far_ from wonderful. Finn was an _idiot_ and he hadn't even been able to keep his mouth shut about the baby for a freaking _hour_ before blurting it out to the first person who'd asked if he was okay. There was no _way_ he'd be able to keep his damn mouth shut around her _parents_.

"Refresher?" Russell reached for his wife's glass and Quinn barely suppressed the wince she felt at watching her father help her mother sink even further into the bottle than she already was.

"Aw, honey," Judy scoffed, barely turning away from Quinn as if to say this is it, this is how a wife behaves dear', "I don't want you to lift a finger for me. I'm your _wife_!" She stood, taking both glasses off to the wet bar to refill them.

"Hmm, my little lemon drop," he gave her a sharp swat to her ass as she walked away, before turning and hurrying out of the room, "I gotta go catch Glenn."

Quinn turned slowly back to the mirror, her eyes going automatically to the slight swelling that was just starting to show. In that moment, she hated her child. Hated Puck. But most of all hated _herself_ for being so _stupid_.

She held back her tears through sheer force of will, begging an uncaring God to let her parents be too wasted to realize how upset she was. It was all over. They'd find out and everything would be over. She'd never escape, no matter what the Daemon or Rachel or anyone else ever told her.

She'd be trapped in this God-forsaken town forever.

* * *

"Quinn!"

She heard the voice behind her, but she just kept going. She was in no mood to be stopped. Her _moron_ of a boyfriend had let the cat out of the bag with _his_ mom like an _idiot_ and now she just _knew_ that Sunday dinner was going to be an utter _disaster_. She needed to get to the park. Hopefully, her Daemon would be there. She just needed to talk to _someone_.

"Quinn! Dammit, Quinn! Wait the hell up!"

She tried to ignore the grip on her arm, tried to keep waiting, but the tanned hand wrapped around her upper arm wasn't giving up. She spun around to face the furiously worried expression on her best friend's face. The lanky blonde that made up the other corner of their trio was hurrying to catch up, two cheerleading bags slung over her shoulders as she burst through the doors of the school into the parking lot.

"Where are you hurrying off to anyway?" She didn't answer, but Santana could see the answer in her eyes, "Oh hell, no! You are _not_ going back to that damn _park_!"

"You can't stop me, Santana." Quinn knocked the other girl's hand off her arm, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at her.

"Like hell I can't! Jesus, Q, are you out of your damn mind?" The brunette pressed her hand to the middle of Quinn's chest, shoving her backwards, "Have you fucking forgot what the hell happened last night? That dude got _killed_!"

"We don't know that."

"Bullshit, Q. Bull. Shit. There's no way in hell he walked away from whatever carried him off. You know it. I sure as fuck know it! Even Britt knows it!"

The tall blonde finally caught up in time to hear the last statement and nodded solemnly. "I think it might have eaten the ducks, Q."

Both girls paused in their yelling at each other to stare at the taller girl for a moment before shaking their heads and turning back to each other.

"You're seriously overreacting, San. I'm perfectly safe there."

Santana's jaw dropped in shock at the sheer _stupidity_ of that statement. Did the pregnancy hormones rot her brain or something? "Have you been listening to a fucking word I've said? There is _something_ out there that is _murdering_ people! You. Are. Not. _Safe_. There!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Quinn threw up her arms, spinning on her heel to head off towards her car again.

"Q, please don't go. I'd be really scared if you went." Brittany caught her lip between her teeth, blue eyes welling up with tears, "I don't want you _or_ the baby to get hurt."

The pregnant teen turned back to give the upset girl a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. She wouldn't let anything happen to me, Britt."

"She?" Santana stepped towards her, once more closing the distance she'd put between them, "You talking about your mysteriously friend' here, Fabray? The one that's just _so much better_ than B and me? The one that _gets you_?"

Quinn just glared at her, daring the dark girl to take that last step.

"Whatever is out there took out a fully grown, _big_ man like _that_." Santana snapped her fingers in Quinn's face, "I seriously doubt your precious, damn _homeless chick_ would stand a snowball's chance in hell!"

Quinn smacked her hand aside. "She's not usually like that! She's sweet and - and _gentle_! She'd never hurt me!"

Santana's eyes widened and she took a step back, "oh shit. _Shit_! You _know_ who - Ay dios mio! Your friend! Your fucking _friend_! What the hell, Q? Did you lose your fucking mind with your damn V-card?"

"Shut the hell up, Santana!" She gave the smaller girl a shove trying to make her back off. She didn't want to deal with now. Not when she was all stressed out worrying about what stupid thing Finn was going to do on Sunday to ruin _everything_. "You don't know her! Mind your own damn business!"

"You went and befriended a homocidal fucking _maniac_ , Q! I think that's kinda _my damn business_! What the hell's her _name_ anyway? Do you know _anything_ about her except her penchant for _ripping people the fuck apart_!"

Just then Rachel came through the doors into the parking lot and her expressive brown eyes caught Quinn's over Santana's shoulder. Looking back, she'd never be sure exactly what it was, but something about the girl's concerned expression or maybe her eyes hit her just right. And it was like everything clicked into place. Suddenly all the clues made sense, all the little comments that taken alone meant nothing but _together_ , all of the subtle movements - it all made sense.

Quinn's eyes widened as the realization hit her, everything snapping into sharp focus and she wondered how she'd never seen it before. It was so _obvious_. How she always knew what was going on in Quinn's life at school. How she knew when to come find her because she had a bad day. Everything. Her hand drifted to her face, covering her mouth.

Surprised by Quinn suddenly checking out of their fight, Santana glanced back over her shoulder to see what had shocked her friend just in time to see Rachel duck away and scurry off to her car. "What the hell? It's only Mighty Mouse."

"I - I," Quinn shook her head, trying to get around the sudden realization, all she knew was she had to be somewhere _else_ , "I have to go."

"Wait a sec! We're not finished here!"

"I really have to go, San. We can talk or your can yell at me or whatever _later_." The tears were building up behind her eyes and she wasn't sure she could hold them back much longer, let alone how they were choking up her voice, "I just - I have to go."

"You're _not_ going to that damn park!"

"No! Okay! I'm not going to the _park_!" The tears were starting to get past her control and she spun about to hide them from her two friends, storming towards her car as the two trailed her. "I'm just going _home_!"

Her voice was quiet, broken as she spoke over her shoulder as she opened the door to her car and got in, "I really need to go home now."

For as long as it stayed her home anyway.

* * *

Her father stared at her with such _disappointment_ in his grey-blue eyes that she almost broke down in tears. _Stupid_ Finn, she'd known he'd ruin things somehow.

"There must be some sort of... mistake, here. Quinnie," she hated hearing the upset in her mother's voice, "we raised you _right_."

"Y-you did." Shut _up_ , Finn. Just shut up and stop making it _worse._ "We didn't even have... sex."

"I'm sorry, can we just _stop_ with the lying, please?"

Her father wasn't speaking. He just sat there. Staring at her. _Judging_ her. She needed him to be her Daddy again, but he didn't want to.

"But... I"

"When you were about five years old," the older man's voice seemed so _ancient_ and _weary_ that she wanted to cry, "I took you and your sister down to an Indians game. All the other dads brought their sons. But my two girls were enough for me."

She tried to swallow back the tears that threatened to spill out. This was so much worse than she'd ever imagined. A single tear trickled down her face as she shook her head, trying to deny what she knew was happening even if Finn didn't have a clue. "Daddy..."

"Your _sister_ made it through the whole game. But you fell asleep in my lap." The man's eyes were dry, though his wife wiped away tears at the story, "I kept hoping that nothing exciting would happen. Cause I didn't want the crowd to get too loud. Wake you up."

He swallowed as if trying to hold back some emotion that never appeared in the cold blue eyes he directed at his youngest child. "Didn't matter. You stayed asleep in my arms til the game ended."

"Daddy, I'm so sorry." The words weren't enough, they'd never be enough for his wounded pride, but she had to say them. Had to _try_.

He sighed, then pointed his finger at Finn, the first signs of anger beginning to flicker in his eyes. "You need to leave."

Finn stood, actually willing to run away and leave his girlfriend to whatever mercy she could hope to throw herself on. Quinn scrambled to her feet, clutching at his arm to try and make him stay, to make him not leave her to handle this alone. "Wait... please, Daddy? Can we talk about this? Finn is a _good guy_. He loves me."

Her father only looked down, no longer even meeting her eyes. "You too."

Judy stared at the man she'd married in shock. But she didn't say a word. It wasn't her place as his wife.

"What?" She'd expected it, worse case scenario maybe, but she _had_ expected it. She just never expected how bad it would hurt to have her father actually _abandon_ her like she was so much garbage.

He raised his eyes, meeting hers again, and there was no warm, no love, no _anything_ in that cold stare. "Get out of my house."

"You can't do that! S-she didn't do anything wrong." Finn turned to her mother, "please, Mrs. Fabray, _do_ something."

"Don't bother, Finn. If she wanted to do something, she would have when she found out that I was pregnant."

Her mother didn't say anything in response to her accusation. It only confirmed what she'd already guessed. That her mother had known and she just didn't have the courage to stand up for her child.

"You _knew_?"

"I... no." Yet again the alcoholic woman who'd shoved her out of her womb into this cold world refused her. "She never told me anything."

"But you knew! And I _needed_ you! I needed my _mom_ and you were so scared of what he would do," she stood alone, no one in the room offering her any sort of comfort as she confronted the two people responsible for her standing there. She wished her friend - she refused to even think the name that she was _sure_ was right until she could confirm her suspicions directly - was there with her instead of Finn. She'd was sure she'd feel so much better with her comforting warmth beside her instead of the awkward lunkhead she was dating, "that you just pushed it aside like we do _every_ bad feeling in this house. If you don't talk about it, it doesn't exist."

Russell surged to his feet. "Now do _not_ turn this on us! _You_ are the disappointment here!"

"Why?" She wasn't bothering to try and hold back the tears anymore, but the crushing feeling in her chest just kept them from being able to escape, "Because I'm not a little girl anymore? Because I made a mistake?"

"Who are you?" He shrugged, shaking his head. "I don't recognize you at all."

"I'm your _daughter_ ," she gasped, struggling to draw air in past the heavy fist closing on her lungs, "who _loves_ you. And I know this must be really hard for you," she knew it wouldn't work, she _knew_ , but she had to _try_ , "but I just need my Daddy to hold me and tell me that it's going to be okay."

He walked around the table, and, foolishly, she let herself believe that maybe it had worked, maybe this time her father would be the man she needed him to be.

"Please?" She felt stupid for begging, stupid and tiny and _useless_.

He just walked past. And there were the tears. She'd known he'd react strongly. She'd been ready for angry words, for fists, for vile, hate-filled rhetoric. She'd never thought he'd just walk away. And somehow that hurt more than anything else he could have done in that moment.

"Judy!"

And at his command, her mother walked out too, not even giving her daughter a second look as she broke down, Finn too lost in his own world to offer her even a comforting hug.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

It was nearly midnight before she was able to slip away from the Hudson household and make her way to her place by the pond. She was tired and her feet _hurt_ from walking the entire way in her dress flats. She didn't even know if her friend would be there, but she had to try. She just needed someone to understand her right then.

Her father had taken everything - her car, her phone - he'd barely let her have a duffel bag hurriedly jammed with a few clothes, personal effects and school supplies. And he'd likely not have even given her that much if Finn hadn't finally broken out of his fugue and started storming about how he couldn't just throw her out without anything.

She hadn't even taken the time to change before bowing out for some time alone. Carol had been so sweet and understanding, but she couldn't take those expectant eyes. Finn had been such an _idiot_ to let her find out. Now she was getting her hopes up and thinking there was something there and there _wasn't_.

Quinn might not be the most honest person in Lima, but she wasn't fond of lying to herself. She knew the truth would come out, it always did, especially now - God was obviously conspiring to make her life hell for her mistake - that it was starting to look like things couldn't get worse. She just didn't think she had to courage to admit it to the gangly boy herself. After what had happened with her parents she didn't even want to try contemplating what it could possibly be like - reality was proving far harsher than anything her imagination could come up with.

All of which led to her standing on the edge of the pond, arms wrapped around her stomach and shivering in the cold. She wanted to sit and let her feet rest, but the grass was still wet from the rain shower earlier and she didn't feel like ruining her clothes on top of her life. So she just stood there, staring out across the water as she had every other time the other had appeared.

The click and scrabble of claws on pavement and gravel caught her attention first. She turned at the unexpected sound, almost stumbling back into the water at the sight of the largest black wolf she'd ever seen. Its massive paws looked the size of dinner plates and she was certain its head would reach above her waist on all four paws. It flicked its tail from side to side as it stalked forward, ears pricked and black eyes seeming to burn with an unholy intelligence.

The beast advanced slowly towards her, its massive head dropping lower to the ground, ears flicking back and lips curling up in a vicious snarl. She shook her head wildly from side to side, this wasn't supposed to happen. There weren't supposed to be _two_ monsters. There wasn't supposed to be _one_ monster, the rational side of her mind tried interjecting, but it couldn't make much headway against the rest trying to break down in gibbering terror.

Then there was the heady rush of wind, the loud flap of leather wings, the double tap of clawed feet smacking lightly into the ground one after the other. And she was _there_ , standing between Quinn and the wolf, wings outstretched to their fullest length, arms spread wide to deny the beast it's prey. The wolf only growled and the Daemon lunged forward, wrapping wiry arms and legs around its body and head, drawing it back into an awkward hold.

" _Control_ yourself!" The Daemon snapped, twisting with the wolf's wild gyrations as it tried to escape, "Dammit, we don't have time for this!" The wolf just snarled, snapping blindly.

"Oh, God." Quinn couldn't help the terror filling her body at the sight of her friend grappling with the massive wolf, "Oh, _God_ , be careful!" She barely held back a shriek with her hand as one of those paws raked across an arm, drawing dark drops of blood to the surface to glide sluggishly down tanned skin.

"It's _Quinn_! Noah, it's _**Quinn**_!" The wolf gave an incredible spasm, slamming the top of its head into the Daemon's jaw and snapping her head back. " _Contain_ the Beast or you're going to _hurt_ her! You're going to hurt the _baby_!"

And with those words, like a switch was thrown, the fight went out of the wolf. The Daemon cautiously unwound herself from him and stepped back, keeping herself protectively between it and the girl behind her. It didn't get up, didn't move, just laid there panting heavily at the exertion it'd just gone through. Finally it raised its head and turned to look back over its shoulder - past the brown leather pack she'd not noticed in the struggle - at the two women.

"Are you okay now?"

It carefully raised and lowered its muzzle twice in a way that could only be interpreted as a nod of affirmation. It's eyes - now looking decidedly more brown than black - seemed to shine with regret. Reassured that the fight was over, she turned to the pregnant teen, carefully folding her wings behind her.

"Are you okay? I'm terribly sorry, Quinn. We were hunting and -" Her words died as the girl launched herself into her arms, trembling arms wrapping around her impossibly slender waist, blonde head burrowing into her chest, body racked with sobs. Confused and intensely worried, the Daemon's arms came up, slowly - gently - wrapping around the blonde's shoulders. Her head lowered to rest on the top of the girl's head, gently nuzzling her hair as she tried to comfort the distressed girl, her wings wrapping about them. "Shh, Quinn, shh. It'll be okay."

"No, it won't! It won't ever be okay again!" She needed this, needed someone to hold her and tell her things would be okay. She'd wanted that someone to be her father, but she had to admit now that that would never happen. He was a lot of things, but forgiving was not amongst his titles. So instead she shook her head frantically and tried to hide from the world in her friend's embrace.

"What's wrong, Quinn?" The Daemon's voice was so soft the harmonics were almost unnoticeable and for a second her voice sounded so very _normal_. It was just another piece of the puzzle that only waited confirmation before the obvious secret was revealed. "Tell me, please. Let me help."

The wolf padded over and whined softly, nudging at the blonde's hip with its cool nose. One wing swept back to allow it into the embrace and it curled around the two women's legs, its length letting its nose rest easily on its tail as the wing swept back. Thus surrounded in the unusual embrace of two beings that everyone else would call monsters, Quinn found it within herself to shakily relate the story of what had happened to her since the Daemon and she had last spoken.

When she finished, the wings had swept back suddenly, leaving her feeling bereft for a moment but she realized that it was done to release the wolf at their feet when her friend's arms never left her shoulders. The beast lunged to its feet, ears pinned back and snarl rippling from its chest in the general direction of the Fabray household. Before it could get more than two feet though, the Daemon had released Quinn and dug a claw into its scruff, bright blood welling up around the punctures she made.

"No! We're _not_ killing them."

The wolf shook itself furiously, dislodging her claws, then glared back over its shoulder with a growl.

"Neither of them!" The wolf gave a sharp yelp. "Have you lost your mind? Do you _want_ us to get caught? Do you _really_ feel like throwing yourself on the tender mercies of the human government?"

The wolf growled, dropping its eyes to the ground and pawing at the dirt almost sullenly, it's tail dropped.

"I know and you're right, but that's how it must be."

"W-what's going on?" Two pairs of unnatural eyes suddenly focused on the blonde as if they only just realized that she was there.

"There are... secrets, Quinn." The Daemon spoke, hands wide, "Secrets you would be far safer not knowing."

"I see." The blonde probed at the inside of her lower lip for a moment with her tongue nodding her head slowly. She didn't meet the Daemon's eyes. "So you're going to play this like my father."

The Daemon snarled, for the first time showing anger in front of the pregnant teen. "I am _nothing_ like your _father_!"

"You sure have a funny way of showing it. Making decisions for me. Treating me like I'm still a _child_." She turned to face the angry face, her cheeks damp with tears not even bothering to try and hide them as they trickled down her face, "Well, I'm _not_ a little _girl_ anymore! I _can't_ be a little girl anymore! I'm on my _own_ out here dammit!"

The Daemon's face shut down, all expression dropping from her features, glancing at the wolf who was looking worriedly back and forth from one woman to the other, "Noah, please ensure that Ms. Fabray arrives safely at the Hudson residence, if you would be so kind." Her eyes never met the trembling blonde's, "I must go."

She spun about on a clawed foot, her wings snapping out as she stormed away, preparing to carry her into the sky. She was only trying to protect Quinn. If Quinn didn't want her protection then she would leave it to Noah. She was _tired_ of being hurt, of being attacked for just trying to keep the teen's best interests at heart.

"Wait." Her voice cracked, far too quiet to reach the Daemon walking away. It hurt. It _hurt_! She didn't want her to just walk out of her life _again_. "Wait!"

She stumbled towards the Daemon, breaking into an awkward run, her hand outstretched for the other. Massive wings began to sweep towards the ground. Powerful legs flexed to launch her into the sky. To send her _away_. And she just knew if she let her go she'd _never_ see her again.

" _ **Rachel, wait**_! Oh god, _please_!"

The Daemon froze mid-motion, her breath broken, her will to leave - to finally just go and leave the girl that made her heart hurt behind - shattered. Quinn smashed into her back, her arms slipping under her wings and around her waist to grip each other at the wrist, locking her in place. She could feel the girl shaking, hot tears searing the exposed skin of her back between her wings where her face was pressed.

"Please don't leave me alone."

Rachel stared at the sky with unseeing eyes, arms and wings hanging limp at her sides, the girl she loved pressing against her back, breath harsh with raking sobs, arms wrapped around her waist. Her tears popped and sputtered as they were licked away by the flames of her eyes, the few that escaped scalding down her face. A clawed hand shook as it raised to delicately cup the hands gripped together over her stomach.

"Y-you know?" For the first time since Quinn had first met her, she sounded unsure of herself, "You know and... you're not - you won't be alone. Noah will stay."

"I don't want Noah."

The wolf who'd been treading cautiously towards the two most important women in his life paused at the words. They may have only been whispered, but he was in wolf form and the words were more than audible to him from only twenty feet away. Ears dropping in disappointment, head slumping down to hang lower than the usual proud stance, he turned and headed away, determined to give them the privacy they deserved for whatever they needed to do.

Neither woman noticed him slinking away, "You have friends. Santana. Brittany. Let them be there for you."

"I don't want them."

"Quinn..." Rachel's voice was soft, pained.

"I don't _want_ them. They don't understand," she gasped through her tears, holding Rachel tighter, " _anything_. They don't know what I'm going through. They don't know what it's like to feel someone growing inside of you."

Rachel's throat worked as she swallowed, "you hate me."

"I don't. I _don't_!" She pressed her face all the harder into Rachel's skin, breathing in the distinct scent of the Daemon, praying harder than she had before that Rachel would believe her, would see she wasn't lying for once. "I never have."

"You," Fiery eyes turned down from the heavens to the hands gripped around her waist, her voice cracked unsteadily as she spoke, "you have strange way of showing it."

"You made me mad. I just wanted to be your friend and you didn't want me. Because I made a _mistake_ that you wouldn't even let me apologize for." Her body shuddered against Rachel's back as a fresh wave of sobs struck her, "Why are mistakes so horrible, Rach? Why do they hurt so much? Why do they always destroy _everything_?"

"I don't know."

Rachel could only rub the hands around her waist in what small comfort she could offer as she tried to find an answer. But there weren't any to be found. She was right. She'd made _mistakes_. She deserved to be _forgiven_ , not punished.

"I just don't know, Quinn. I'm sorry. You don't deserve any of this."

"I just wanted to be your _friend_." The blonde sobbed into her shoulder blades, "Why does that have to be punished?"

Rachel could no more hold back the tears streaming down her face than stop Niagara Falls.

"I don't know."


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Quinn leaned against the lockers beside Rachel's, hugging her books to her chest as she glanced shyly over at the brunette rummaging through her locker for her first period books. She bit her lip worriedly, noticing the odd glances the other students were giving them, especially Santana's raised eyebrow as she walked by with Brittany. Each time, she glanced over at Rachel she couldn't help but feel a weirdly warm sensation in her chest at the thought that now _she_ was the one who got to stand by the tiny brunette in the morning.

It was a wonderful, almost _giddy_ sensation, but she kept worrying that it wouldn't last and they'd go back to being rivals - though she wasn't sure what they were competing for. Or enemies - though Rachel kept refusing to hit back even though she _could_. Or, well, _whatever_ they were.

"Is this okay?"

Rachel leaned back, looking at Quinn with confusion for a moment before turning back to her search for an elusive folder. "Is what okay?"

"This," she inclined her head slightly towards the smaller girl. "Us. My... being here, with you."

Rachel looked confused again, pulling out the last book she needed and closing her locker with a sigh. "Quinn, I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking. We're friends. That's what you wanted, right? Us to be friends?"

"Well, yeah, but," she fidgeted under the brunette's calm brown gaze, toying with the corner of her binder, "I don't want to hurt your reputation. Being seen with the knocked up former head cheerleader and all."

"Is that all?" Rachel laughed - a bright trill of amusement that was a marked difference from her other form's dark harmonics that whispered of pain and torment - and shifted her books to one arm before reaching out and linking pinkies with the blonde. "Quinn, about the only person in this school with a worse reputation than me is Jacob ben Israel, and _you_ are _definitely_ not him. Besides even pregnant, you are still easily one of the most beautiful - if not _the_ most beautiful - girls in this school and being seen with you can only _enhance_ my reputation, not hurt it."

Quinn felt the blood rushing to her cheeks at Rachel's quietly confident compliment. She wasn't yet used to the strange yet amazing feeling of being able to call the brunette her friend and not have to think up some new way of tormenting her, but she very much wanted to. It'd barely been a week, but she had quickly decided that it was all just as special as she'd hoped it would be being the one who got the diva's smiles and caused her laughter. She was starting to think that she could understand why Puck treated her like she was something special.

They'd spent hours the other night - Puck, Rachel and her - explaining the events that had led to the three of them sitting in the chilly dark, two monsters - Puck having pushed into his manwolf form to stay warm while talking - and a pregnant teen. Quinn was still kind of reeling from all of the information that had been dumped on her. She could barely wrap her mind around the fact that the petite brunette and her Daemon were the same person - even after watching the horrifyingly painful transformation back into Rachel - let alone that she'd been around for more than three _hundred_ years and likely would be here long after she herself was dead and buried.

She didn't really want to think about why that last part made her chest hurt like a hand squeezing on her heart every time it crossed her mind.

"Hey, Baby Mommas." The cheery greeting from behind mere moments before Puck's "guns" wrapped around their shoulders, his head popping up between them with a friendly leer as they walked. "What's up?"

"Noah," Rachel's voice was low, the slight edge of irritation catching his attention, "do you, by chance, recall my reaction the first time you used that term to describe me?"

The mohawked boy shuddered slightly, "Yeah..."

"Do you _truly_ believe that my opinion on it would have changed in the intervening years?"

He swallowed audibly, "Um... no?" Quinn had to cover her lips with her hand to keep from laughing at his distress.

"And do you honestly believe that _Quinn_ , in _this_ day and age, would appreciate being referred to as if her only use and purpose was to produce offspring?"

"No, you're right," his head drooped for a moment before he raised up and glanced over at the blonde in question with a penitent frown, "I'm really sorry, Q. I didn't mean anything bad by it. Honest."

She took pity on him, smiling and reaching up with her free hand to pat the arm draped over her shoulder. "It's okay."

"Really?" He looked so like a mischievous little boy right then that she really couldn't help the smile blossoming into a grin.

"Yes, really!" She laughed, giving his arm a smack.

He tried turning the look on Rachel since it'd worked so well on the blonde. "Well, Rach? Gonna just let me hang out here?"

She rolled her eyes with a smirk, "Okay, fine, you're off the hook."

"Alright! Now, that's what I like to hear!" The first bell rang over head, interrupting them. "Gotta run!" His trademark smirk wiped away the pout and he quickly pressed a kiss to both girls' cheeks, squeezing their shoulders in a quick hug before dashing off to class.

Quinn bit her lip as she watched him jog off around the corner, "He's sweet."

"Yes," Rachel glanced at her, an unreadable expression in her dark eyes, "he is."

Quinn noticed the sad note in her voice and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze, thinking that her friend was missing her relationship with the father of her son. Rachel just smiled up at her for a moment, then glanced back to where Puck had vanished around the corner.

"He's a good man."

* * *

"Hey!"

The sound of a certain feminine voice coming from behind him caught his attention and he smiled as he turned, grateful to recognize the voice of the mother of his child - even if it wasn't apparently going to be officially acknowledged as such, which, frankly, _sucked_ \- instead of one of the less happy possibilities.

"What are you doing on Friday?" She asked with a bright smile.

"Just the usual." He shrugged, "was gonna stand outside the 7-11 looking depressed until someone offered to buy me beer, but -"

"You're like, twenty four right now, Puck." Quinn shook her head, bemused by the unusual dynamic Rachel and his inhuman nature gave everything.

"And my license says I'm sixteen, your point?" He shook his head, "Whatever. What's going on?"

She smiled shyly up at him, "You wanna, maybe, babysit with me?"

He smiled - she recognized it as one of the warm smiles that usually only Rachel got, which made her stomach feel a bit funny - and nodded.

* * *

Babysitting had been a disaster.

Not the event itself, per se - well not _all_ of it anyway - but what she was starting to call "the aftermath". She felt stupid and had been avoiding Puck ever since. Unfortunately, avoiding Puck meant avoiding Rachel as well, and the ache in her chest that just seemed to get worse the longer she went without seeing the smaller girl wasn't making her feel any better.

When she'd left Terri's sister's house, she'd actually felt good for once, like she and Puck had accomplished something _important_. Like maybe they could pull it off, the whole "being a family" thing.

Then Santana - _Santana_ \- had practically assaulted her in the hall telling her to keep her hands off Puck as if she had some claim - Quinn was almost certain the darker girl had broken things off with him after about a week of dating. Then she'd checked his phone like she'd suggested. The _lie_ he'd told her - that he'd been texting Rachel for advice - just jumped up and slapped her in the face when she scrolled through the _obscene_ texts from the girl she'd thought was her friend - the girl she'd _thought_ was dating her _other_ best friend.

Puck had tried some pathetic line about being a "sex shark", but she'd just stared at him in disgust until he slumped against the lockers and actually suggested that he couldn't get involved with her and _their_ daughter because he didn't want to hurt _Rachel_. As if Rachel had anything to do with it!

So she found herself standing outside one of the boys' restrooms leaning against the lockers and waiting for her oversized boyfriend. She didn't love him - she knew that much - but he loved _her_ and right then, she needed that more than she needed to be with someone she loved. She just really needed to be loved _back_ and none of the other men in her life seemed to want to do that for her.

"Hi." His voice was soft and he looked a little nervous as he spotted her when he came out of the restroom.

She straightened up, crossing the hall to stand in front of him, "Hi." He smiled and even though she felt horrible for doing this to him, she smiled back, hesitant and unsure of herself. "Can we be in love again?"

He took a breath. "I have to tell you something first. I, uh, I want us to be honest with each other no matter what."

She felt a pang of fear lance through her at his words. Did he not love her anymore? Was he seeing _Brittany_ since Santana apparently had Puck? "You can tell me anything."

"Cool." He smiled again, happy. "Ah, uh, it's not really even that big a deal, I mean I didn't actually do _anything_ , but," he finally stopped looking at anything but her and let their eyes meet, "the other night when you were babysitting, I kinda went over to Rachel's house."

"I know, Finn," she smiled softly at his surprise, "Rachel and I are friends. She told me you were coming over."

"Nothing happened! I... just was worked up about us fighting and she offered to talk. And, and -"

"Finn," she reached out, grabbing one of his hands and pulling it up to hold it over her chest, "it's okay. Like I said, she already told me. It's alright. But thank you for being honest with me."

"I love you, Quinn."

Those four words shouldn't hurt so much. It should feel _good_ that he loves her, but everything is so tangled up in the web of lies that it just hurts. Suddenly, she wondered if she'd made a mistake getting back together with Finn.

But then his arms were around her and it's just what she needed. She hugged him close, whispering the words she knew he wanted to hear - even if she didn't mean them. She wondered if she ever really had.

"I love you, too."

Rachel turned the corner as they were walking away, her eyes on the blonde for the first time since last Friday in class. She saw how she was wrapped around the oversize quarterback. Saw the happiness in her face.

She should have left that night. Should have leapt into the sky and let the night winds carry her away. She had _known_ this would happen. Had known how her heart would break when it did.

Quinn had made her choice.

* * *

She rang the doorbell, smiling at Carol Hudson when she answered. "Hello, Ms. Hudson, I was wondering if Finn was available to speak with me?"

"Of course, I'll get him." Carol smiled at the girl on the doorstep - Rachel was a very sweet girl and a good friend to both her son and his girlfriend.

Rachel waited patiently until Finn opened the door again and stepped outside.

"You need something , Rach?"

"Yes," she straightened the hem of her shirt, drawing herself up to her full five feet and two inches, "I felt that I should address you on Quinn's behalf."

"Excuse me?" The gangly boy looked confused.

"I want you to know that Quinn may have made her choice, may have chosen _you_ , but that doesn't mean I'm not her friend."

"Um, yeah. I kinda knew that." He shrugged, not really concerned. "You're over here like all the time to see her."

"Be that as it may, Finn, I am speaking on her behalf when I say, if you _ever_ do _anything_ to hurt her or her daughter," she poked him in the chest, trying to emphasize her words without allowing the Beast out, "I will _personally_ make it my life's mission to make you pay for it. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah, but I'd never do anything to hurt Quinn or the baby, Rach. You know that."

"Never's a really big word, Finn."

"No, it's not, it's only got like," He pauses a moment, spelling it out in his head, "five letters."

She stared at him for a moment, yet again marveling as to how someone as stupid as him was capable of landing a girl as amazing as Quinn. "Be that as it _may_ , Finn, it would behoove you to remember my words. Good night."

She turned and walked off into the darkness before he had a chance to respond.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"I thought you were with Brittany."

The words were soft, marked with the hesitancy of someone who was uncertain they would be taken well by the listener. Santana glanced up from the bench she was sitting on looking out over the playground below, looking at the brunette slowly approaching with a raised eyebrow. She shot a pointed glance in the direction of the lanky blonde cheerfully bounding around the jungle gym before turning back to where Rachel was now standing next to her.

"No, I'm just chilling here for fun, Mighty Mouse." She leaned back into the bench, turning her attention back to her best friend, "What do you want anyway?"

"Can I sit here?" Santana's only answer was an exasperated sigh and a quick scoot to the side, letting Rachel perch on the bench beside her, "I was wondering why you did it."

"No time or interest in playing guessing games with you right now, Tiny." She flipped her long hair back over her shoulder with a casual gesture, dark eyes only leaving the capering blonde down below to flick to Rachel's face for a moment before turning back. "Use those words you're so fond of and either tell me why the hell you're bothering me and messing up my otherwise good day or get the hell out and leave me alone."

Rachel frowned at the darker girl, not entirely certain about the dry tone being directed at her. "Very well, Santana. I wish to ascertain the cause for your confrontation with Quinn in the hall the other day."

"Seriously?" Santana turned to her with a sneer, " _That's_ what's got your granny panties all up in knots, midget? My barely there throwdown with Tubbers?" She laughed, a harsh bark of sound, "I can't help it if she wants to go after my man, but I will certainly put her in her place when she does."

"Do _not_ call her that, Santana." The smaller girl snapped, eyes narrowed in irritation, causing Santana to smirk in amusement.

The darker of the two laughed, sounding genuinely amused by Rachel's ire. "Since when are you and Q so tight you're fighting her battles, Berry? What do you even care what goes down with her and her special brand of crazy? Girl's been a serious bitch to you."

"There are _many_ things you are not privileged to. Suffice to say that our differences have been reconciled." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes at the other girl's mocking tone.

"What the hell, Berry? You got some kinda lady wood for Preggers?" Santana looked at her for a moment before her eyes went wide and she grinned, throwing her head back with a laugh. "Oh my god, you _do_! Why didn't I see it before? Oh, this is too rich! Freaking Mighty Mouse and Teen Mom! Oh _god_." She wiped away a stray tear, a truly delighted smile wreathing her face.

"Santana, you should know that I find your baseless accusations - as well as your absurd amusement in them - to be _entirely_ offensive. And, even if it were true, she is involved with Finn."

The darker girl sneered, leaning back again. "Oh, like you wouldn't jump if she snapped her lily white fingers. Just another one of the idiots wrapped around her little finger like most of the guys at school. But if Ms. Thang thinks she can get her hooks on _my_ man, she's got another thing coming."

"You sound jealous, Santana. Is this something Brittany should be aware of?" A dark brow rose curiously over brown eyes. "Though your concept of Noah as your man' seems entirely ill conceived. We are both fully aware that he is not involved with you."

"Look, Berry, I may tolerate you cause Britt likes your midget ass for some reason and your having her back gets you some points, but that doesn't give you any place to go getting up in my face about shit that doesn't concern you." She glanced over at her with a look of dismissive distaste, "And just because you and Puck are all Jew-buddies and shit doesn't mean you know all about who he hooks up with."

Rachel stood suddenly, stepping in front of the other girl fast enough to make her draw back in surprise remembering what she'd done to Azimio - but only slightly because Santana Lopez does _not_ get scared of Rachel freaking Berry, thank you very much. And if - when the smaller girl put a hand on the back of the bench to either side of the other girl's head and leaned in close - a blush colored her cheeks, well that out of embarrassment for the aggravating girl's over aggressive lunge and not because she thought the girl might try to _kiss_ her or something. That was just _absurd_. Just like it was absurd if anyone thought she _shuddered_ from the smaller girl's breath against her ear - it was _cold_ out, okay?

"You have _no_ idea how well - how _intimately_ \- I know Noah, Santana." Rachel's voice was low - husky - in her ear, the kind of voice that promised dark, exciting things in the night and made the darker girl's heart race for a moment, sending her thoughts flitting to places better left alone, "Or what I know about his _hook ups_. I know _far_ more about you than you will _ever_ know about _me_ , Santana. Lay _off_ Quinn."

Then she was gone, almost as if she'd never been there, turned away and walking down the path as if nothing had happened. Santana sat there for a moment, calming her breathing and trying to get her heart to cool it. She swallowed, blinking slowly as she stared off into the distance for a long minute before finally standing to her feet and making her way down the hill to the playground and her blonde friend.

She didn't _need_ the taller girl - she was a fucking badass, okay, far more badass than Puck could ever hope to be, and badasses didn't _need_ anyone, let alone blondes who could kiss like fireworks on the Fourth of July - but she certainly _wanted_ her and those long legs wrapped around her body. She wasn't scared of Rachel Berry. She certainly wasn't backing down. But she'd be lying if it hadn't been kinda hot seeing the little diva be all dominating and shit.

She needed work off some steam, take the edge off. Seeing Brittany spot her and wave exuberantly from the top of the monkey bars, she felt a small smile curl her lips and her hand lift almost unconsciously to return the friendly wave with one of her own. She was Santana Lopez. She didn't need anyone.

But if she _had_ to, the blonde running into her arms would be her first choice.

* * *

They'd just been told - for the _third_ time - that the princess they were looking for was in yet _another_ castle - seriously, was she running away? - and directed their brightly colored, overall wearing characters down another pipe. Rachel was beginning to get bored with the game's repetitious nature, but Puck certainly seemed to enjoy it, so she curled up on the sofa next to him and pushed the red and black buttons as needed. It was Thursday, their day, and normally they spent it roaming the wild paths around the town or flitting over the streets in search of prey, but today she'd suggested just staying in, staying _human_ for one night.

"You haven't been needing to hunt as often lately."

Rachel shrugged, reaching over to grab her beer and take a swig. "Things haven't been as stressful lately."

"It's Quinn." Puck nodded sagely, not taking his eyes off the screen as he brought his own bottle to his lips, free hand still deftly manipulating the controller.

"Excuse me?" The empty brown bottle clattered against the other bottles in the can across the room shortly after leaving her fingers.

Puck snorted, risking a glance away from the screen to look at his best friend. "You're not fighting. You're like friends and stuff now. Even if you have been avoiding her lately." He took another pull on his bottle, only to discover it was empty with a frown. "Why the hell you been doing that anyway?"

"I'm not avoiding Quinn, Noah." She sighed, getting up to pull another couple of beers from the box on the table. Returning, she peeled the caps off - the edges dug into her softer human fingers, but the metal couldn't resist their strength - and handed one to the boy, taking her seat beside him again. "I've just been busy lately."

"That's bullshit, Rach, and we both know it." He takes the bottle, flipping his old one to the can. "You haven't even set foot in the same hall as her if you can avoid it since she got worked her shit out with Finnessa." A hit from the bottle,

"I've been _busy_ , Noah. We have to prepare for Sectionals and Mr. Schuester obviously is not up to the task, I have class assignments, managing my investments..."

"Strange how none of that was a problem before she was walking around arm in arm with the lunkhead." He interrupted, taking a pull from his bottle, "She's been waiting for you at the park, but you haven't even given her that."

Her hand tightened around the bottle, causing the glass to whine and groan in protest. "Do not do this, Noah. Just let it go."

"Oh, like hell, Rachel." He paused the game, tossing the controller away and turning to face her, brow furrowed with annoyance. "Don't do this to her. She doesn't deserve your jealous crap right now. She needs her _friends_ not some stupid, over-emotional Daemon who's so damn wrapped up in her jealousy she can't-"

"Stop!" Rachel jerked her head about to snarl at him, face lengthening, bones becoming more prominent and cheeks splitting back to her ears to reveal rows of saw-like teeth as her jaw dropped open. "I _know_! I _know_ that, dammit!" The bottle shattered in her fist, brown glass mingling with bright red blood and the pale yellow of the beer tumbling from her hand, she hurled the remains away with a multi-harmonic shriek to crash against the wall above the can with a crash.

She got herself under control with some effort, head dropping to her hands, ignoring the bloody mess. "I know that, Noah. I do. But it hurts _so much_ seeing her with _him_." She growled, low in her throat, "With someone who's tried to cheat on her at _least_ twice _already_. I could have handled it if she was with you, Noah."

"Rachel..." His voice was soft as he reached out to the hurting girl, but she shook him off.

"No! Don't do that! Don't try and placate me!" Her face came up, blood smeared across her face, a couple of small nicks where glass from her hand had cut her it, brown eyes glaring at him. "She could have been with you! She wanted _you_! I could have handled that!" A couple of tears slipped from her control sliding down her cheeks, "But you had to fuck that up with your damn sexting! Couldn't you just keep it in your damn pants for _once_?"

"Rach, sweetheart," He reached out again, this time successfully managing to grip her upper arm, pulling her into his embrace. She collapsed against his chest, weakly pounding against the muscled planes as tears streaked down her face, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and holding her tight. "I'm sorry. I thought I was doing it for you. I thought she'd choose you, I did. I'm sorry. I didn't want to steal her from you. I never want to hurt you like that."

"Stupid," she mumbled, smacking him again. "She was never with me. I could have handled it, Noah. Now she's with him and we've both lost."

He hugged her tight, placing a small kiss against the top of her head before resting his chin there, gazing over to where Sarah's mother stood on the stairs peering at them to give her a tiny shake of his head. "She still needs her friend, Rach. Still _wants_ her friend. You're hurting her staying away."

"I know," she sighed softly, her voice little more than a plaintive whisper, "it just hurts so much. She makes my heart ache, Noah."

He rubbed her back gently, fingers drifting along her spine. "I know, Rach. But she needs you."

She just nodded against his chest, taking comfort in his embrace.

* * *

The locker slammed shut in front of her face, barely missing her quickly pulled back hand.

"You're ignoring me and I want to know why."

Barely looking up at the blonde looming over her, Rachel reached up and put the combination back in to open her locker up again. "Good morning to you too, Quinn."

"Don't play with me, Rachel." Now confident that she had the brunette's attention, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared, allowing the focus of her irritation to remove the books she wanted. "I haven't seen you in nearly two _weeks_. Not here, not _anywhere_. You haven't answered your phone or responded to any of the texts I've sent." The anger faded from her face leaving only hurt confusion. "Tell me what's going on, Rachel. Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something?"

"I haven't been avoiding you, Quinn." The brunette sighed tiredly, pulling her last book out and closing the locker again. "And you didn't do anything. I've just been busy lately. It's not a big deal." She turned to try and walk away, but barely got two feet down the hall before she felt long, slender fingers wrap about her arm, pulling her to a stop.

"It's a big deal to me."

Her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat, and she glanced back over her shoulder seeing the pain in hazel eyes. "I'm sorry, Quinn, I really have been busy. I didn't mean to make it look like I was avoiding you."

"I thought we were friends, Rachel." Her voice was soft, the hand on the other girl's arm seeming more tentative. "Talk to me."

Rachel smiled gently, taking Quinn's hand from her arm and giving it a squeeze. "I was looking for something. A reminder of why I'm here." She tugged her hand, stepping off in the direction of the school library. "Come on, let me show you something."

They walked to the library hand in hand, Rachel obviously pulling the blonde along, but Quinn couldn't help the feeling of warmth coming from their joined hands. She'd missed the little brunette over the past two weeks and now that they were together again she was of half a mind to never let her go again. She hadn't realized how much it would hurt to lose the girl from her life once she'd gained her friendship and she found herself dreading the end of their senior year.

Rachel had made no secret of her plans to become a success on Broadway and Quinn knew enough of the other girl's plans to know they involved leaving Lima behind shortly after the end of the last year of school. Now that she knew the brunette's secret, she knew she would eventually return to these halls, but it'd be too late for her by then. And as always, every time that realization hit her - that Rachel would go on without Quinn in her life some day, that she'd share her stories and pain with someone else - it felt like a fist swallowing up her heart in its cadaverous grasp and squeezing until there was nothing left.

Rachel pushed open the door of the library and led them to a small table in the back stacks. Directing Quinn to take a seat she walked off, soon returning with an old edition of the _Thunderclap_ , which she set in front of the pregnant teen. The cover was brown buckram, embossed with a basketweave design. The gold foil for the letters on the cover and spine almost completely worn away, but she could still kind of read it. _William McKinley High School, Thunderclap, 1973_.

Quinn looked up, confused. "I don't understand. It's an old yearbook."

Rachel nodded, sitting down in the chair next to the other girl. "Exactly." She opened the book, flipping to the club pages. Finding the photo she wanted, she slid the book back over to Quinn. "See anything familiar?"

It took her a moment - the book was in good condition but time faded everything eventually - but it finally clicked. She was wearing glasses with heavy dark frames and her hair was up in a ponytail, but there was no mistaking the smile - or that nose. There, in a photo of the school newspaper society from 1973, was Rachel Berry. Quinn looked up, shocked.

"T-that's you."

Rachel nodded. "I'd be in older ones as well if they existed. No one thinks to cross check with the photos of students from over thirty years ago. And if they did, at most, they'd think I simply bore an uncanny resemblance to my grandmother."

"I don't understand, Rachel. Why are you showing me this?"

A small hand settled over hers - why had she ever thought "manhands" would be a good nickname? - and she shivered to feel Rachel's warmth as she leaned in, peering over her shoulder at the page. "This is my reason for being here."

"A yearbook?"

"More than the yearbook. What it represents. The people of this town. People like you." A hand drifted momentarily to the swell of her stomach then away, and if she hadn't been paying attention she could have believed she imagined it and the sensation of warmth it brought, "Like your daughter."

"Rachel..." Quinn looked at her, feeling almost light headed at the dark headiness of Rachel's determined eyes.

"I am here to protect them, Quinn. So no one will suffer as I did. So I will stay and I will protect them." She pulled the former cheerleader's hand up, clasping it with both of hers, dark eyes earnestly meeting hazel, "I will protect _you_. You and your child, Quinn. I promise."

Quinn just stared at their connected hands, confused about how she was feeling at the sight. She loved Rachel, as a friend. There was little that made her happier than getting to spend time with her. But she just couldn't explain the strange sensations somersaulting through her like some crazed routine developed by Coach Sylvester.

Finally, Rachel let go of her hand, standing to put the old _Thunderclap_ back in its place. Quinn sat there, feeling unaccountably troubled by the sensation of loss she felt when Rachel had let go. But it was just because she was still feeling affected by the brunette's absence from her life the past couple of weeks, making her more sensitive to the feeling even in tiny doses.

Of course that's what it was. Rachel was her _friend_. And a _girl_ , albeit a rather attractive one who had a tendency of becoming a rather more frightening one. That's all it was.

Of course it was.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

It was that time again.

Time for the pomp and pageantry of the annual snapping of shutters, recording for posterity smiling faces and carefully combed and styled hair. Time for fretting over the tiniest blemish in the bathroom, spending the time before school agonizing over clothing choices, make up and hair styles. In other words, it was time for the annual yearbook photos.

Which also meant it was also time for the after school activities photos as well. Which further meant it was time for the _glee club_ photo. And brief foray into the last decade of yearbooks archived in the library did nothing to bring comfort to the ragtag band of misfits. Photo after photo, all horribly defaced, typically in macabre fashion - knives, blood and the like.

Thus it wasn't with any great surprise that the majority of the members of New Directions met the news that their entry into the latest edition of the _Thunderclap_ was to be omitted with barely repressed relief. If there wasn't a glee club photo, it certainly couldn't be defaced, and with the number of popular kids joining the club lately, that was something that needed to be avoided. Quinn and Puck had even managed to convince Rachel to go along with the popular vote on the subject and not contest the ruling.

They hadn't accounted for their over-enthusiastic teacher.

* * *

"Fellow glee members, I would like to present myself as the solution to your problems."

It was almost ten minutes before the scheduled start of Glee - fifteen before Mr. Schuester would make his arrival - yet the entire complement of the club had already assembled to discuss the dilemma presenting before them. Namely, who would be the sacrificial lamb slaughtered on the altar of yearbook photos as the captains of the team. Though, to be honest, no one was particularly surprised when Rachel stepped to the front of the room and offered to take the fall. She was constantly explaining how it was vitally important to her future on the stage and screen to get as much experience before the bright flashing lights of the uncaring cameras as possible after all.

"As we all no doubt are aware of, I am possibly the best choice to assume the role of captain of the glee club. I am highly associated with the club outside of this room and, as last year's yearbook surely represents, I have no fear of the repercussions of having my photo defaced."

"Rachel, we can't just let you throw yourself under the bus for us like that." Quinn sounded exasperated, but in truth she was feeling rather conflicted. On one hand, Rachel was her friend - her _dear_ friend - and she didn't like the idea of anyone putting the smaller girl down, but on the other she _really_ didn't want to be the one to take the reins as captain either.

Rachel just smiled brightly at her. "I quite assure you that it is no such hardship, Quinn. I am proud of being a member of the glee club and would be happy to represent you all as your captain. I am not afraid of the slings and arrows of the disgruntled critics that make up the population of this school."

"But -" The pregnant teen looked troubled, catching her lower lip between her teeth and worrying it gently.

"Look, Quinn, we all know you're digging on Rachel lately and you're, like, friends and stuff now, but you gotta let her make her own decisions." Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in the chair, "Rachel's a big girl, Quinn, she knows if she can handle it or not."

"Thank you, Mercedes! I quite appreciate the -"

"Whatever. I just don't want any of this mess landing on me, and if you want to catch it then I'm not about to stop you."

"Well, Mighty Mouse? Put Teen Mom at ease before she miscarries or something. Can you hack the drama of being in the yearbook or not?"

"Santana, while your insults are still entirely offensive," The look she shot the darker girl across the room was full of a dark knowing that brought a slightly flush to her cheeks at the reminder of their encounter in the park, "I assure you that I can handle _anything_ that is thrown at me. The harassment tactics of this school are mere child's games compared to the assaults on the psyche that Broadway critics are prepared to level at my door. In fact, I propose to go one step further. I know that Mr. Schue has declared that we must have two captains for the photo, but I am willing to prove my dedication to this club - and my future - by being the sole captain, thus only allowing my smiling face to bear the brunt of vandalization."

Quinn still looked troubled, torn between giving into the all but overwhelming desire to let Rachel stand between her and her detractors and protecting the smaller girl. "If you're sure..."

Rachel stepped to her, taking her hands in her own and looking into hazel eyes with a smile, her voice going soft and reassuring. "I am exceedingly sure, Quinn. Not only am I sure, I _want_ to do this. For you," she looked around, meeting the eyes of the others in the room briefly, "all of you."

Quinn sighed, nodding as she allowed that desire to let Rachel be her defender wash over her, clearing away her remaining doubts. "Okay, Rachel."

At that moment, Mr. Schuester finally made his appearance, bursting into the room with his usual lack of punctuality and disrupting the moment. "Okay, everyone! Are you all excited? It's time to pick your captains!"

"I nominate Rachel." Mercedes voice was dull, showing a distinct lack of interest in the proceedings that even managed to make Mr. Schuester's face fall a bit.

"Second." Kurt's wasn't much better.

"Alright! Let's vote up in this piece," Puck was already handing out slips of paper, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and back to the weight room, "I gotta go hit the gym and load up the guns of _Puckerone_ for the _football_ picture."

A few minutes later, Mr. Schuester unfolded the last piece of paper with a sigh of resignation. "Looks like everybody voted for Rachel. Including Rachel." She only smiled at his mildly displeased tone, so he continued. "But we need _two_ captains, guys."

Rachel started to speak up, but Quinn quickly reached forward to put a hand on her shoulder. There was no need for Mr. Schuester to know about their discussion before his arrival after all. "Why two? We're fine with having Rachel represent us in the _Thunderclap_ by herself."

Mr. Schuester's eyes were dragged back to the unhappy and bored looking Kurt when he chimed in, "We'd actually prefer it."

* * *

Having to listen to Mr. Schuester spout on about the importance of having two captains had been starting to give her a headache. He didn't understand that, for once, the motivations behind her desire to serve as the sole captain and representative of the glee club were not wholly self-serving. She was attempting to sacrifice herself for the good of the others, even if the attempt was hidden by her normal facade of self-absorbed dedication to her pursuit of the glittering lights of Broadway.

Eventually she realized that just capitulating to his obsession and agreeing to find a co-captain would end the torment and allow her to get on with her day, so she'd stuck out a hand and shook on it. Which lead her to her current dilemma.

Actually _finding_ said co-captain.

* * *

"Santana!"

That the Cheerio actually stopped at her call was likely more attributed to irritation over Rachel calling down the hall after her than any interest in what the little diva had to say to her. She pivoted on one heel, glaring at the approaching girl with a sneer of distaste.

"The hell you want, Mighty Mouse?"

Rachel smiled as she caught up to her, "Santana, thank you ever so much for taking the time to speak with me on this import-"

"Okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, Tiny." Santana held up a hand, cutting her off before she could say anything. "I gots places to go and people to see. I _ain't_ gots the time for your babbling. So you get to the point and you make it snappy, or I'm gonna cut you." The bright smile on the cheerleader's face at her threat actually gave Rachel a moment of pause.

"Very well, Santana. I merely wished to offer you a chance at the coveted position of co-captain."

The darker girl pinched the bridge of her nose as if she was actually pained at the conversation. "First of all, I _thought_ we covered this. _No one_ wants to be co-captain with you. That be _why_ we made you captain in the first place. So we didn't _have_ to have two sacrificial goats."

"Your unimpressive decent into ghetto speak' aside, Santana, you have to admit that this is an unparalleled opportunity for -" Rachel frowned - this was not going as planned. She'd been counting on the cheerleader's desire to be in charge demonstrated by her assumption of the captaincy of the Cheerios upon Quinn's rejection, but certainly didn't appear to be the case.

"Yeah, midget, for abject _humiliation_ and _I_? So do not rock that scene."

"Santana, you are overlooking an op-"

"What I am _overlooking_ is why the hell I'm actually standing here and talking to you. The answer's no, Berry, now run along before I decide to make an example to you."

Rachel turned away with a huff, mentally running through the list of fellow glee clubbers as she did.

"And leave Brittany alone!" Santana yelled.

Rachel slumped a little, mentally crossing the blonde off her list as she left.

* * *

Mercedes and Artie rejected the suggestion almost out of hand. Brittany was completely off the list thanks to Santana. Matt and Mike couldn't be cornered long enough to actually offer the position. Kurt had just taken one look at her, raised a brow and held up one finger while he shook his head before turning and walking away. Tina had pointed out that it would be best for the captains of the _glee_ club to be people who were actually _visible_ in the school, something which she had spent much of her educational life doing just the opposite.

Rachel was running out of options. So when she spotted a familiar head bobbing along ahead of her in the sea of students, her steps quickened to carry her through the crowd. Once she reached him, she wrapped a slim arm around his more muscular arm and beamed up at him.

"Noah, just who I wanted to see!"

Puck didn't waste any time. "Look, Rach, your my girl and all - I'll always have your back - but I've got to think of my reputation."

"Noah, really, you don't even know what I'm going to ask." Rachel frowned, chewing on her lip.

"Seriously, Rach?" Puck looked down at her almost incredulously, running his free hand over his mohawk nervously, "You don't honestly think Mercedes didn't call everyone within like five seconds of you walking off, did you? Because she really did."

"That would explain my difficulties in tracking down Mike and Matt."

He glanced around before pulling her off to the side, ducking into an empty classroom, "Okay, listen. I love you, Rachel. I always will. But I can't co-captain glee club with you. It's bad enough I'm _in_ the club, if I'm a co-captain it'll get brutal and I can't deal with that right now."

She sighed, pulling away and turning to walk off, but he caught her wrist before she could.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? You should try Finn. He's too big a moron to realize how bad it'll be and he thinks your into him or something. You could at least get the photo taken with him even if he's too dumb to actually, like, help with any of the actual captain stuff."

She nodded back over her shoulder at him, prompting him to drop her wrist. "Thank you, Noah. I'll keep that in mind."

With that she pulled open the door and swept out in true Rachel Berry fashion, on her way to her next - her last if she was honest with herself - attempt.

* * *

"I'm desperate."

If he walked faster maybe she'll think he hadn't heard. It was a vain hope. "Glee club _needs_ you, Finn."

He winced at her words. She would use that argument. "I'm totally honored you asked me, but don't you think you should pick somebody who, like, cares more? Not that I _don't_ ," he almost turned back, but stopped at the last moment knowing he'd never be able to keep denying what she wanted if they made eye contact, "but I just have _football_ and _friends_ and stuff."

"Yeah, o-okay," she hurried her pace, catching up to him so she could see his face as they talked, "glee club only started working after _you_ joined. Face it, w-we wouldn't have all of the cheerleaders and football players in the club if it wasn't for you."

He sighed - Rachel was entirely hard to put off, even when he _didn't_ want to do what she was asking. "You know I love glee club. I just don't know why I have to represent it."

She caught at his jacket then, stopping him and pulling him around to face her. "Because _you're_ a leader, Finn. And that's what leaders do. They stick their necks out for people that they care about. There are stakes here. Morale is low, you know it." She gazed into his eyes, beseeching him - even if her Beast did snarl and growl in its cage at the idea of begging him, "If things don't change, we're not even going to _place_ at Sectionals and then the club is over. I can't do this alone."

She could tell she had him at the stiffening of his shoulders, the subtle straightening of his back and rise of his chin. "You don't have to. I _am_ a leader. That's who I am, who I wanna be. You got yourself a co-captain. I'll do the picture with you."

It was stupid, such a tiny thing and she shouldn't have had to all but get on her knees and _beg_ him to do it, but he'd agreed. She couldn't help the smile wreathing her face at his agreement. Maybe there was hope for him as Quinn's boyfriend after all.

* * *

He'd let her down.

It was the only thing she could think of looking at the empty stool beside her. Finn had told her he'd take the photo with her, that he'd be the one to sit in that co-captain chair. He'd known what time he had to be there - she'd double checked last night _and_ this morning - he'd just never shown.

It was enough to make a girl feel unwanted. Even if she didn't have any interest in the overgrown man-child, it still didn't feel good to be let down like she had. The photographer's constant glances at the clock was beginning to get on her nerves as well - never a good thing when she had to hold her Beast in check.

"I don't understand," she couldn't stop looking at the stool, couldn't stop combing her fingers through her hair where it draped over her shoulder. "I asked _everyone_."

The soft creak of the door opening and closing again almost went unnoticed. The familiar step on the tile floor, however, didn't. Rachel looked back over her shoulder quickly, her body following soon after.

She stood there, just inside the door. Blonde hair tumbling in gentle curls over her shoulders, kept back from her face with a simple white headband. White cardigan over dark blue dress, pale fingers toying idly with a button as a hand lightly pressed against the slight swell of her stomach. Hazel eyes looking curiously and a little nervously at the smaller girl.

 _Quinn_.

She stepped forward, closer to Rachel. "You didn't ask me."

Her voice was soft, low and husky in the quiet of the room. Rachel's gaze dropped to the floor. She hadn't wanted to ask Quinn, hadn't wanted to face her rejection.

The blonde stepped even closer, slender fingers reaching out to gently raise the smaller brunette's chin until she was looking at the taller girl again. "Why didn't you ask me, Rachel?"

"I didn't want you to tell me no'." Rachel's voice was soft and grew softer as she spoke. Quinn felt her heart clench at the lost look in the dark brown eyes gazing up at her. "I didn't want to be rejected. By everyone."

Quinn frowned slightly, "why do you think I'd reject you? We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, Quinn." The brunette took a step back, opening a gap between them that the blonde had to fight to avoid closing again. "We're friends."

The blonde swallows down the strange sensation of hurt at her friend's words and smiles with a shrug. "Well, in my book friends help each other, and you look like you need some help. Besides," her voice took on some of the head bitch attitude she'd once displayed towards the little diva, "do you _honestly_ think that _Finn_ is the only leader in glee, Berry? Seriously, it's like an insult or something to be ignored like that. Are you _trying_ to make me mad?"

"N-no! Of course, I'm not, Quinn! It's just," Rachel bit her lip, missing the amused twinkle brightening hazel eyes as she shrugged awkwardly, eyes on the ground, "I did this to protect you and I don't think I'm doing a very good job of it."

The twinkle faded, replaced by warm concern as she closed the space between them, wrapping her arms about the other girl's shoulders. "You don't have to try so hard, Rachel. You're wonderful the way you are."

"Um, yes, well, this is certainly touching and all, but can we shake a leg here?" The unexpected voice caused the girls to shoot apart from each other, the gap suddenly reimposed.

Rachel shot a glare at the photographer for interrupting their moment, her Beast roaring up to growl its indignation through her eyes, making the poor man take a step back in fear. But before anything could happen, Quinn stepped closer again and laid a soft hand upon Rachel's bare upper arm. The Beast cowed itself at the warmth of her touch, curling back down into the depths of the brunette's soul.

"Come on, Rachel, let's get this photo taken and show everyone who the real leaders are in Glee, okay?" The blonde smiled at her friend, letting her hand slide down her arm to take her hand, tugging her back towards the stools.

Rachel smiled with a short nod, "that sounds like an excellent suggestion, Quinn."

When he mentioned having to get to a commercial shoot after wrapping up their photo, the two girls looked at one another, a plan forming in the back of their minds to boost morale in the club.

* * *

"I'd like to call this meeting to order."

Her hand was on the door handle to pull it closed when Finn's massive hand smacked into the upper part of the door. He push it open with enough oblivious strength to nearly rip it out of her light grasp, making her fingers sting with the effort of holding on. She looked up at him wondering how she could have ever believed he would be worthy of Quinn.

"Hello, Finn." She spun away exasperated and unwilling to deal with him, marching back into the choir room, "how nice of you to _show_."

She heard the door click shut behind her, his heavy footsteps trodding the floor in her wake sending little vibrations up through her feet and legs. "Look, I'm _sorry_. The guys were harassing me in the locker room about it. They said if I took the glee club photo they'd make me choose between a Hitler mustache or buckteeth and," he shrugged, looking sheepish, "I can't rock either of those looks."

"Perhaps you were unaware, Finn, but it's not actually _you_ that'll be getting a mustache or buckteeth. It's just a _photo_ , not the end of the world." Quinn crossed her legs primly as she leaned back in her chair, watching the mess that was her boyfriend make a fool of him self in public, "In five years no one will care that morons like Karofsky and Azimio scribbled on it with a Sharpie."

"What do you want from me? I _said_ I was sorry, okay?" He scowled angrily, glaring from one girl to the next.

"A little maturity would be nice." Rachel just stood there as she spoke, arms crossed over her chest, not even looking over at where Puck was sitting on the edge of his chair ready to knock Finn away if he tried something on the smallest member of the club. "You could show some actual leadership qualities, rather than cowing under peer pressure and the unbelievably pathetic threat of scribbles on a picture."

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could, Quinn was speaking. "Just sit down before you embarrass yourself any further, Finn. You promised you'd be there for the photo and you couldn't even do that." As he sat beside her, she leaned over and hissed at him, "Makes me wonder how you're ever going to be a good father to this child. It was a _simple_ promise, Finn."

"I _said_ I'm _sorry_ , Quinn! Enough already!"

She leaned back, "Whatever." When he tried to put his arm around her shoulders, she shrugged it off with a disbelieving scowl of disgust.

"Okay, look, I - I realize now that all of you think that glee club is just a joke. Okay, a-and your convinced that we can't win and your content to just sit idle by until Figgins cancels the club. Well, I'm about to present to you a _rare_ opportunity."

Quinn just smiled slyly as she looked around the room and the curious expressions of the other members of the club. She was feeling pretty gratified about her part in this plan and was convinced it was a good one. There was no way any of them would want to turn down something this big.

"The opportunity to become," Rachel paused, giving a moment to build the right amount of dramatic tension before the big reveal, " _stars_."

Santana unwittingly provided the foil to Rachel's cryptic statement, saving Quinn having to pull the disbelieving act to advance the plan. "How?"

"We have _all_ been cast in a local," she smiled, anticipating the astonished and pleased gasps that would no doubt follow, " _commercial_."

She wasn't disappointed. Even Finn stopped being irritated by being yelled at by her and his girlfriend to perk up a bit. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, _Finn_. And while all of you have been so concerned with you _appearance_ in this school, Quinn and I have landed glee club its first big break." She smiled, waving at Quinn who just smirked at the shocked expressions being turned her way with a little wave, "Simply put, making us all _celebrities_ , okay? And _no one_ messes with celebrities _or_ defaces their pictures."

Tina smiled, leaning forward, delighted despite her self-proclaimed desire to be invisible in the school, "What's the commercial?"

"Hold on to your hats," Rachel couldn't help beaming at Quinn, "and get ready to sell..."

Quinn's return smile was almost as bright as she got to her feet and crossed to stand beside her friend, picking up Rachel's trailing line. "Some _mattresses_."

As everyone burst into spontaneous discussion, the two friends just linked hands, smiling at each other as their plan came to fruition.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"Thoughts?"

Rachel couldn't help but smile at Mercedes, even though her Beast told her to smack her down and put her in her place in the second string. She glanced back over her shoulder before speaking, catching the eye of her co-captain who smiled and nodded her head in encouragement. "It's clear the room adores you. And, all though it wouldn't be my first choice, but," she looked at Mercedes, ignoring the rage of the Beast at what it viewed at her usurping of Rachel's place to smile brightly at the other diva, "I can't wait to see you sing that song at Sectionals. You're amazing, Mercedes, and you deserve it."

The other girl looked up almost shyly at the unexpected compliment and Rachel felt a quick pang of regret that she'd been so ambitious around her fellow glee clubbers, allowing herself to get so wrapped up in her current persona's wants and dreams that she ignored the feelings of those around her. It was almost sadder to realize that if it hadn't been for Quinn and Puck pointing out what she'd been doing, she might never have realized that she was doing it at all. It was a stinging reminder of the great disadvantage of immortality - forgetting how to connect with the fleeting brightness of most mortals.

"I'm going to hug you now."

Mercedes smiled, opening her arms. "Okay, come on."

Rachel stepped forward, wrapping her arms around the ever-so-slightly shorter girl and squeezing carefully, not wanting to hurt her. It was more difficult to control her strength when she was busy fighting with the Beast for dominance, and right then it definitely wanted to come to the fore. It was insulted, furious that she was actually condoning another stealing what it viewed as rightfully theirs from right under their noses and keeping it contained was significantly more difficult than usual until Quinn stepped up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She released Mercedes, stepping back and marveling at the strange sensation of the Beast backing down apparently on its own. As the bell rang, signaling that it was time to change classes, Quinn's hand slipped from her shoulder leaving both girls feeling slightly adrift.

* * *

The pair stepped into the hall, the bell's shrill buzz still shivering the air. Quinn cradled her books to her chest almost protectively as she walked beside her diminutive friend, glancing around for a moment as she stepped into the hall - anticipating the judgmental stares and questioning looks that never seemed to come lately. She knew part of it was sheer familiarity with the situation, but she was fairly certain that her friendship with Rachel also had a good deal to do with it as well.

Puck hadn't been shy about demonstrating his protectiveness towards the brunette since he'd arrived at the school. Two weeks and a trail of broken noses and black eyes later, most of the torment she'd enacted against the other girl had stopped. Somehow it'd been assumed, since she'd started hanging out with Rachel, the umbrella of Puck's protection had extended to cover her as well. She wasn't going to complain - it was nice to not have to worry about slushies to the face while walking down the hall and she felt bad she'd ever put Rachel through that - even though she knew there was an entirely different reason for him being protective of her than just her being friends with a girl he loved.

"That was amazing, Rachel. What you did for Mercedes." She leaned over, bumping her shoulder against the smiling brunette at her side. "It must have been hard for you."

"Thank you, Quinn. But it was the right thing to do," Rachel turned her head to look up at her, arms crossed over her chest as if trying to physically keep the Beast contained, "I wanted to bring the team together."

"Well, you did a wonderful job, co-captain. I'm proud of you." Quinn smiled at her friend, popping her locker open and changing her books for the ones she needed. "And I'm really looking forward to Sectionals. Even with Mr. Schue gone, after how we pulled together for the commercial, I think it's going to be really fun. And if we win," she trailed off, one hand resting gently on the swell of her abdomen. She shook her head, "never mind, it's stupid."

Rachel reached out, letting her hand rest on Quinn's covering her unborn child, her dark chocolate eyes stared intently into murky hazel. "No, it's not stupid if it effects you like this. I want to know. Tell me, Quinn."

Quinn took a breath, steadying herself. "I was just thinking that if we win sectionals maybe things will be okay for a while. For me an the baby." She paused, nibbling at her bottom lip and looking away, "With Finn." At the mention of Quinn's boyfriend's name, Rachel's shoulders slumped and her hand slipped from Quinn's, much to the blonde's regret. "Rachel, what's wrong?"

The smaller girl sighed, not really looking at her taller friend. "I want you to be happy, Quinn. And when you care about someone, you can't sit around and watch them suffer when you know you can do something about it."

Quinn could only nod slowly, confused at where Rachel was going with this.

"Finn," she paused, gathering her thoughts before charging forward, "Finn isn't right for you. He's emotionally immature and obviously not prepared for raising a child, and worse he's not nearly your intellectual equal. You need someone who can challenge you, both mentally and emotionally, for a truly successful relationship and -"

Her words are stilled by the sensation of soft fingers against her lips. Quinn looks at her with a confused expression, knowing in her heart what's about to be asked of her and feeling both anxious for it to come out and wanting to put it off just a little longer, "Rachel, I don't understand. What are you trying to say? And to the point, please."

"Finn's a moron, we all know that. He can be sweet and well-meaning when he tries, but he's simple and his emotions run close to the surface. I've been keeping your secret, but the longer this goes on the more hurt he'll be and soon none of will be able to predict what he'll do when he find out."

Rachel takes a deep breath preparing to say what's been building inside her for a while, her dark eyes not meeting Quinn's lighter ones, but her hands wrap around Quinn's slightly trembling ones.

"You need to tell him the truth."

* * *

Puck twisted from side to side under Finn, doing more to try and avoid the worst of the furious boy's punches then actually defending himself. He could have him off easily if he wanted, flung him across the room even with the far more limited strength of his human form compared to his wolf-body. But Finn was his friend - even if he was a moron - and he'd hurt him enough by sleeping with Quinn, he didn't want to break him, or worse, kill him. So he just kept his arms up, trying to take more of the wild punches on his forearms instead of his face.

For a second after Mr. Schuester dragged Finn off the top of him, he could only lay there, feeling dazed, ears ringing from a lucky punch. Rachel'd told him she'd talked to Quinn and that the blonde would be telling Finn the truth, but he honestly hadn't really expected Finn to sucker punch him right before glee club started. Thinking about it a bit more as he got to his feet with Quinn and Rachel's help though he wasn't sure why it had surprised him. He kinda had knocked up the dude's girlfriend. Finn had all kinds of right to be pissed.

"Tell the truth!" Finn was screaming, roaring like some kind of enraged animal - and Puck knew enraged animals after more than a hundred years with the Beast as his constant companion.

But that didn't mean he'd admit anything until he was sure the taller boy was angry for why he thought he was. Quinn's secret wasn't his to reveal. "Punk just walked in and sucker punched me!"

"Don't play dumb! You're too fucking dumb to play dumb!" It was taking the combined efforts of Mike, Matt, and Mr. Schuester to keep the quarterback off the mohawked boy.

"Okay, not that this isn't fun and all, because seriously? Finnocence getting his fight on with Puck over Ms. Teen Statistic is all kinds of hilarious," Santana just smirked - in that like devious sexy way she had - despite the scowls she was receiving from at least half the room, "but who spilled the beans? And don't look at me cause I might be a bitch but I don't go tellin' stories on my girls."

Kurt looked as freaked out as someone with some kinda critter crawling up around his junk. "Obviously it was Rachel!"

"What? I didn't do anything!" She didn't, not really, and Puck knew she didn't. But she had sort of instigated things by convincing Quinn to come clean.

"No. No, it wasn't Rachel. She didn't do anything." Finn's rage was burning out. The boy seriously didn't have stamina for anything. "Quinn told me. But I want to hear it from both of you."

Everyone looked to the pregnant teen, just standing their with tears streaming down her face, making no effort to stop them or wipe them away.

"Finn, just calm down!" Mr. Schuester's voice barely made anyone look away until Finn started screaming again.

"No! They're both lying to me!" He managed to break away from the others after they'd relaxed into thinking he wasn't going to throw another fit, but thankfully the violent part of his anger seemed to have faded, "is it true? Just tell me. Is it true?"

Puck looked to Quinn for guidance on how she wanted to handle the situation. At her quiet nod, he turned back to Finn, letting her come forward, barely noticing out of the corner of his eye as Rachel subtly stepped closer to Finn and Quinn. He wasn't surprised by it - his girl had a protective streak a mile and a half wide after all - but it kept him from moving as far away from Finn as he'd originally intended. Someone would have to stop her if the oversized lunkhead made a wrong move so he didn't get killed - boy was an idiot, but he'd gotten played, he didn't deserve to die for it.

"Yes." Her voice was soft, breathy with just so much hurt in it that Puck wished for a moment he hadn't been so stupid as to drive her away, wanted nothing so much as to take her in his arms and protect her. But that wasn't his place. It never had been. "I told you, Finn. Puck is the father."

Finn looked dumbfounded, as if he couldn't believe she'd actually say it in front of everyone, as if suddenly it was more true than it had been fifteen minutes earlier when she'd told him alone. Rachel took advantage of the moment to step between Finn and Quinn, pushing the taller girl a step back behind her. Puck wanted to stop her, but again, it wasn't his place. Rachel protected who she chose to and damn any who'd stand in her way - something he'd learned the hard way.

"So a-all... all that stuff in the hot tub?" It was seriously pathetic watching Finn fall apart, he seriously couldn't believe the man-child was ever an option for Quinn's future partner, "You just made it up?"

He could see him getting mad again. Maybe Rachel didn't want or need his protection, but Quinn was carrying his child, his daughter and he wasn't about to fail to stand up for that baby girl. Far better that Finn's fury was directed at him than any of his girls. "And you were stupid enough to buy it!"

Sure enough, the cold glare of the boy's hatred turned back to him. But before he could rush forward, he was stopped by a small hand placed in the center of his chest. Distracted by the unfamiliar pressure against his sternum, he looked down to see Rachel's hand pressing against him, looking up at him with a solemn expression.

"I understand that you're feeling hurt right now, Finn. You've just learned something you no doubt didn't think you'd ever experience. I am certain it is quite enraging to think about. But I want you to stop and think for a moment." Rachel's voice was calm, even, talking him down out of his fury, "They told you the truth. No more hiding. No more lying. Everything is out in the open and you didn't have to find out from someone else. They told you. Quinn told you."

He tried to push past her, but it was like he'd suddenly been stricken of his strength because she didn't move an inch. She just stood there, one hand on his chest, the other at her side as if she wasn't applying any force at all, but he just couldn't move. Finally, tired of fighting and frustrated, he backed off.

"I am so sorry." Her voice was so choked with tears even Puck could hardly tell what she was apologizing for - cheating, lying, letting him believe they could be a family, making him doubt himself - he couldn't begin to guess.

"Screw this." Finn took another step back, away from everyone, glaring at Quinn over Rachel's shoulder, "I'm done with you. I'm done with... I'm done with all of you!"

He stormed out of the room, the tall rolling chair near the piano falling victim to his emotional tirade, crashing into the wall irreparably broken. Quinn crumbled in the wake of his departure, everything pulled out from under her. Rachel didn't speak, just pivoted on one patent leather heel and opened her arms to the girl, allowing her to hide her tears in the shoulder of her sweater, hands brushing gently across her back as she murmured soft consolations in her ear.

Puck could only stand there, wanting to hold them both, wanting to take the pain away, and knowing it wasn't his place.

* * *

Rachel went in search of Quinn as soon as the last bell of the day rang. She found her almost exactly where she'd expected - sitting on the tiny bench tucked into the alcove at the end of the hall near the cheerleading trophy cases. The blonde had once mentioned that she liked being close to what she once was - even if Rachel didn't think that "like" was the right word for constantly reminding yourself of what you no longer had, she'd had fairly good reason to believe she could find the other girl there.

Her instincts had been proven spot on when she came around the corner and saw the blonde sitting there, hands curling protectively around her unborn child, just gazing blankly off into space, not really seeing anything. Rachel knew how hard it was for her to tell Finn the truth and her heart ached for her. She approached slowly, acting as though Quinn was a wild deer that could spook and bolt at any moment.

"I'm so sorry." She wasn't entirely sure what invoked those words, but they felt right, "I fully understand if you no longer wish to be friends with me or wish to beat me but, though I ask that you be careful in your condition so as not to jeopardize the well-being of your child. And please try to avoid my nose."

Quinn just looked at her with a sad smile. "I'm not mad at you, Rachel. All you did was give me the courage to do something I'd been afraid of doing on my own. Tell the truth." She patted the bench next to her lightly, "Sit with me?"

Rachel nodded, tucking her skirt under her as she sat, turned slightly towards her friend. "I was selfish when I asked you to do that, Quinn. I wanted to break you two up because I just couldn't stand seeing you together anymore."

"Well, you got your wish." Quinn almost laughs, but it's a horribly tragic sound that makes something inside Rachel's chest feel like shattered glass, "We are definitely not together any longer." She swallowed back the tears that welled in her eyes, "I have hurt so many people. What am I going to do now, Rachel?"

The brunette couldn't stop herself from reaching out and placing her hand on the other girl's arm. Quinn turned abruptly to look at her at the gentle touch and it was like a switch had been thrown, she collapsed against Rachel, tears streaking her cheeks, soft sobs echoing in the silence of the hall. Rachel just held her, rocking her gently, tears of shared pain slipping down her face.

They sensed Puck's approach from down the hall more than heard or saw it. The normal confident boy was almost timid as he crouched in front of them, reaching out to place one hand Quinn's knee, trying to provide some level of comfort to the distressed girl. Just wanting to show that he was there too.

"Hey," his voice was soft, he hated doing this - the whole thing was making him feel like he was betraying his girl and that just sucked - but Rachel had insisted saying Quinn wouldn't choose her and she needed someone, "so, I know you're upset now, but I want to be with you and I'll do everything I can to be a good dad to our baby."

Quinn pulled away from Rachel's shoulder, the smaller girl letting her arms slip away from her to give her room to sit up, and turned to look at the earnest young man kneeling before them. "Thanks, but I honestly can't handle any more stress in my life right now." She reached out and rested her hand on his where it rested on her knee. "I'm going to do this on my own."

"No, you're not." At the other girl's words, Quinn turned to look at her, confused and startled. "You're not on your own in this, Quinn. You have people you can rely on. Brittany. Santana," an ironic smirk at the mention of the blonde's often irritated friend, "Noah." She caught one of Quinn's hands, holding it between both of her smaller ones with a smile for the taller girl, "Me."

At the last soft utterance, Quinn felt her heart seem to pause in its steady beating before starting again. It gave her such an overwhelming sense of warmth and belonging that she felt confused. It wasn't right to feel like that about Rachel. She was her friend. She was a girl. It was wrong and it would make Rachel leave if she knew how Quinn was starting to feel about her. So Quinn pushed down her confusing feelings, pushed them away until she could look at Rachel and not feel that funny twist in the pit of her stomach.

She may be bearing a child outside of wedlock, but that was no reason to compound her sins any further. The Bible was clear - as her pastor often reminded his flock - what she was starting to feel was a sin. Rachel would be disgusted if she knew. She'd leave and then Quinn would be alone again.

Quinn resolved then and there not to let her know.

* * *

It was dark - nearly midnight, to be honest - when Finn finally turned to go back home. He'd blown off football practice that afternoon and just driven home after storming out of glee club. But when he'd gotten there, he found he just couldn't take his mom's cheerful chatter about his "coming bundle of joy", but he didn't want to tell her it was all a lie yet either, so he'd grabbed his jacket and headed out on a walk to try and figure things out.

He'd been gone for hours - he figured he had to have walked at least a couple miles - and he'd really been thinking, but it still didn't make sense. Why would she do something like that to him? And then just lie about it? He loved her! And he'd thought she'd loved him too, but obviously that was just another lie.

He growled as he angrily kicked at a rock on the side of the road, sending it flying. "She probably never fucking cared about me at all. All just some kinda twisted game for her!"

His self-obsessed tirade masked the soft sound of wings behind him, the sharp tic-tack sound of clawed feet making purchase on the tarmac of the road. He didn't hear the slow but steady chock-pops of talons digging into the roadbed and slipping free again advancing towards him. Didn't notice anything at all out of the ordinary until a massive clawed hand - like something out of a monster movie - landed on his shoulder and pulled him around.

Finn was tall, quite possibly the tallest person at William McKinley High, if not possibly in Lima since his dad died in Iraq. So it was with no little trepidation that he found himself tilting his head back to look into the brown balls of flame staring down at him. Most of the figure that had accosted him was shrouded in the darkness, but he was almost certain there were horns coming from its head and something that looked like wings spreading out behind it.

"Oh wow, good joke, guys! That is some amazing make-up! Like something outta a movie!" He laughed, relaxing under the hand still gripping his shoulder certain it was just his teammates pulling an elaborate prank, "So who is it? Johnson? Karofsky? Come on, I'm on to you now so just admit it."

The sound started low, a dark rumbling that seemed to vibrate to the very core of his being, shaking the foundations of his soul, something more felt than heard. A secondary harmonic twined with the first, this one middle range, rippling and curving about him, wrapping his heart in tendrils of fear at the menace dripping from every harsh, sharply angled tone. Then a third, fourth, fifth, each successive harmonic spiraling the sound higher, spinning and slicing his psyche with agonizing terror, until it seemed like a chorus of damned souls shrieked at him in rage in the chill darkness of the night.

As the figure growled at him - and there really wasn't a better term, for all the pitch and terrifying harmonics, it was still a soft sound not a scream or a shout - its clawed hand tightened about his shoulder, lifting him bodily from the ground. Suddenly he knew, beyond any possible doubt, that this was real and paralyzing fear rippled through him as he realized just how much danger he was in. He'd heard of the Lima Monster after all, heard about the missing people and the horrible stories about what had happened to them. A sharp scent filled the air, the musky scent causing the figure to scowl in disgust at his lack of control.

"You broke your promise, Finn Hudson."

Oh, god, he was going to die. And he'd never gotten to play Black Ops! The figure gave him a shake that made him feel like he'd just gotten hit by that big linebacker from the Warriors' defensive line again.

"You broke your promise!"

He finally gathered himself realizing that if he wasn't dead yet, maybe he could get out of it. "W-what?"

"You promised you'd never hurt Quinn, Hudson."

Suddenly all of the rage from the choir room was back and he was screaming, kicking at the figure, beating at its arm with his fists. "Let me go, dammit! She hurt me! She lied to me! She deserves to be hurt!"

"She deserves nothing of the sort," the figure flung him away, sending him rolling across the road before stalking towards him again, coming more into view as it stepped into the light of the nearby streetlight - yes, those were definitely wings and he found himself trying to scrabble back away from the obviously female monster feeling at once terrified and strangely turned on, "She deserves someone who loves her enough to give up everything for her."

The clawed hand fisted in his shirt, ripping him to his feet and almost off the ground again. "I did love her! She's the one who doesn't love me!" He tried spitting in the monster's face.

Another clawed hand came up and wiped away the saliva dripping down its distorted cheek before hissing through the air to smash across his face in a vicious backhand. His head jerked to the side, the skin over his cheekbone breaking under the force of the blow along with the underlying bone. "She chose to be with you, you overgrown infant. If you loved her that would be enough!"

She flung him away again, sending him into the woods. He crashed into a tree hard enough to knock the wind out of him, sending him to his hands and knees gasping for breath. She stormed through the underbrush, catching him in the ribs with a kick hard enough to send him into the air where she snagged him again.

He clutched at her wrist, struggling to breathe past the burning in his chest and back. "S-she never loved me."

"She wanted to be with you," she thrust him back against the tree making him groan in pain as the bark dug against his fresh bruises, his shirt and jacket doing little to protect him, "which is far more than anyone else had! What more could you want?"

He coughed, "I wanted her to love me."

"You don't always get what you want, Hudson." The rage that had been pushing her was gone just like that. She dropped him suddenly, leaving him crumpled on the ground at her feet. "You disgust me. Grow up and learn to be a man some day."

With that, she turned, stalking back out to the tarmac, spreading her wings impossibly wide and bursting into the sky, leaving the battered young man to stagger to his feet and home, clutching at his cracked ribs.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty Eight**  
  
No matter how much growth Finn may have shown by returning to the club at Sectionals, what he did upon the group’s return surprised no one. However, surprised or not, Quinn still felt the sharp pang of loss sting her heart at the sight of the two duffel bags that contained the sum total of her life - garment bag of glee club costumes draped over the top - sitting on the front steps of the Hudson house. Neither Carole or Finn came out to speak to her as she stepped out of Puck’s truck assisted by Rachel, during the walk of shame to pick up her bags, when Puck set them in the back of the truck or even when they drove off. The opinion of the Hudson family for the girl who’d brought so much chaos, stress and pain into their lives was perfectly evident.  
  
Quinn leaned against Rachel as Puck drove, sobbing softly, “what am I going to do?”  
  
“You’re gonna let us be there for you.” Puck’s gruff voice broke her out of her self-pity.  
  
She shook her head, wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks, “I told you, Puck, I don’t want -”  
  
“Not my place,” he laughed, a soft bark of sound that reminded her of the warm comfort of his wolf form, “unless you really want to crash on my lumpy-ass couch in the basement, we just don’t have room. You can stay with Rach.”  
  
The blonde turned a curious yet hopeful gaze on the brunette who’d been sitting quietly beside her, “can I?”  
  
Rachel shrugged, glancing sideways at the taller girl with a shy smile, “of course, Quinn, my home is yours. For as long as you need it.”  
  
“But what about your dads?” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it, “they won’t mind will they?”  
  
They pulled into the driveway of Rachel’s house as she spoke, “they won’t mind, Quinn. And even if they did, they’re not really my dads, and,” she hopped out and turned to lift Quinn down to the ground with a casual strength far greater than should be possessed by someone of her stature, “even if they do, they don’t have much of a choice.”  
  
The pregnant teen looked at her confusedly even as she accepted the garment bag from Puck, the boy insisting on taking the two duffel bags in himself. “I don’t understand.”  
  
“It’s my home, not theirs.”  
  
She unlocked the front door, directing them to the stairs to the second floor to situate her new housemate as she went to find her “fathers” and explain the situation. She found the first of the two in the kitchen preparing to make dinner. Hiram had been a surprise child, but she’d never regret bringing him into the world - he was easily the most adaptable of all her children throughout the years. She was certain he’d adapt to this as well.  
  
Rachel wrapped her arms around his waist as he stood at the counter, giving him a hug, her cheek pressed against his back just at the base of his neck. He smiled at his work, finishing chopping the pepper on his board before turning to give her a real hug. He just held her for a moment before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  
  
“How was Sectionals, mom?”  
  
The shocked gasp from the doorway jerked his gaze up from his mother in his arms to the blonde girl and mohawked boy in the archway leading to the dining room. His eyes widened in shock behind his black rimmed glasses as he took them in, slowly shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. So much work, and a stupid slip of the tongue -  
  
“Hiram, these are the two I’ve been telling you about,” Rachel gestured first at Quinn then at Puck, “Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman. Quinn, Noah, this is my son. Hiram.”  
  
“W-what - Rachel?!”  
  
She laughed, an amused trill that delighted a certain blonde to hear - it’d been absent the last few days - and surprised the man beside her, “Hiram, Noah and I were married for a while - 1859, right?”  
  
“‘58, but who’s counting.” Puck smirked, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
When she laughed again, Quinn shot a grateful smile back over her should at Puck, who just shrugged. “How could I forget! He was quite dashing in his Sunday best, charmed me all over again,” she smiled warmly at the boy.  
  
Hiram pushed his glasses up from where they’d slid down his nose, “you mean to say you’re a...?”  
  
Puck raised a brow, “if you’re trying to suggest I’m another winged, fanged scary like Rach, you’re barking up the wrong tree, kid. _I_ am a _wolf_.”  
  
His self-satisfied smirk just inspired Quinn to reach over and smack his shoulder. “More like a _dog_.”  
  
“Hey, that hurt!” He pouted, rubbing at his arm.  
  
The blonde just rolled her eyes, one hand lightly caressing her stomach. “Good. Men!”  
  
“And Quinn,” Rachel paused, unable to really tone down the warmth of the smile she gave the girl, “Quinn’s my best friend. She knows about us.”  
  
“But she’s not...”  
  
The brunette shook her head, “she’s mortal, like you and Leroy. Which brings me to the point. Quinn has been cruelly ejected from her familial home and that of her now former boyfriend, so she will be moving into the spare room.”  
  
Hiram just shrugged, “Okay. You know you don’t have to tell me, mom. I’m assuming she’ll be joining us for dinner tonight, will you be staying as well, Noah?”  
  
“Nah, I gotta be getting home, but thanks for the invite, Hiram. You all good now, Q?”  
  
“No,” she stepped to him and gave him a tight hug, “but I think I will be. Thanks, Puck.”  
  
He hugged her back, nearly lifting her from the ground, “Any time, Quinn. See ya, Rach.”  
  
She placed her hands on his shoulders and stood up on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Thank you, Noah. Give Sarah an extra hug from me tonight, okay?”  
  
“Every night, Rach. Take care of Q, 'kay?”  
  
She just smiled, “always.”  
  
*****  
  
The tension in the room was almost palpable. The only sound filling the small room was the whir of the elliptical machine. Yet for the two standing before the mild glare of the machine’s user, it seemed as though a rumbling tumult crashed and roared about them as they absorbed the force of their coach’s displeasure.  
  
“You two should be wetting yourselves with shame.”  
  
The words were mild but it took a disbelievingly high amount of will not to comply with her words. It was always hard around Sue. There was something about her that compelled the Cheerios to comply with her every - and often absurd - whim. No matter how independent they might be outside of her regard, once in her presence it was almost impossible to disobey her.  
  
And Sue was more than a little aware of this fact. To be precise, she encouraged it, tying the threads of power that connected her to her followers ever so slightly tighter with every surrender to her will - no matter how tiny. She craved their worship, their blind devotion, with a hunger that rivaled that of Will Schuester’s hunger for ever increasing amounts of rancid hair lube.  
  
So she only barely restrained the pleased smirk that threatened to curl her lips as she felt their nervous energy vibrating the lines. She could feel them resisting the urge to do as she said and it gave her a warm thrill. After the disappointment that Quinn Fabray had ended up being, these two were the only ones who actually challenged her hold. With the proper grooming, they would make entirely adequate high priestesses and leaders of her congregation once she gathered enough followers to re-Ascend.  
  
Quinn had been her chosen one. Blonde, beautiful, perfect. But she had somehow twisted so far from the Sue’s control to snap the lines. Leaving her to rely on her second choices, the duo of Santana and Brittany. They would serve in time. But only with the proper grooming, so as she dismounted her mechanical steed like the descending ruler from on high she so obviously was, she resolved to test them.  
  
“Glee club won Sectionals and you did _nothing_ to stop it.”  
  
She stalked around behind them as she spoke, feeling the tugs on the strings that tied them to her and reveling in their meager attempts at rebellion. They _enjoyed_ participating in that revolting little gathering of mouth-breathers. Normally, she wouldn’t care so long as their true devotion remained proper directed at her, but she’d taken a disliking to the club’s mop-headed director. And it didn’t help that it was hiding the yet unknown Daemon in its midst.  
  
“If you were Samurai,” she leaned in, lowering her voice to threatening registers as she turned to Brittany - who was, surprisingly, tugging harder than her normally fiery compatriot, “and my letter opener was sharp enough, I would ask you both, right now, to commit seppuku.”  
  
She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms and staring at them, waiting to see how they would react, if they would dare talk back to their master. “In Japanese, this means ritual belly-slitting.”  
  
“We were seduced by the glitz and glamour of show biz.”  
  
As predicted by the uneven tugging, the blonde had managed to find some strength somewhere in that ditzy persona she was so very fond of. Still looked to her keeper for confirmation, but Sue had to admit, she was a little impressed at how the normally timid girl stepped up. Perhaps there was more hope for her than she’d originally thought.  
  
“Let me drop some knowledge on you. Ever since Quinn Fabray got knocked up,” Sue made her way back to her weight rack, picking up a couple of light weights, “I’ve been in the market for a new head cheerleader.” That would tickle their interests.  
  
They didn’t move - obviously the geas to remain standing was a little too tight - so she released her mental grip on the lines, allowing them some return of control. “If you want the job, and back in my good graces, you’re gonna have to _turn around_ and listen up. You’re familiar with a little glee clubber named Rachel Berry?”  
  
The girls could only nod, compelled into silence by the awe-inspiring presence that is Sue Sylvester - not to mention the tight mental “fingers” she was keeping on the lines between them. She could feel them struggling against the geas - the lines twitching against her hold - and it amused her to let them out and reel them in again like an elaborate fishing game. She’d had so very very long to perfect her techniques - the willful teenagers didn’t stand a chance.  
  
“Rachel’s the kind of girl who wants things too badly.” The Streisand-obsessed midget would have made an intriguing addition to her congregation, too bad she possessed such an annoyingly high amount of will and resisted every attempt to lasso her with a line. It was almost enough to make her suspect the annoying diva was the mysterious Daemon who had thus far eluded her detection, but of course that couldn’t be the case - no self respecting Daemon would allow herself to be treated so basely within her own territory after all.  
  
“And what she really wants is one Finn Hudson.” A hard tug on her lines caught her attention. Santana. Intriguing.  
  
“Berry doesn’t even _like_ the Jolly Green Giant.” Was that an actual _sneer_ on her over-tanned face? _Very_ intriguing. And now a pull from Brittany. This was getting more interesting by the moment.  
  
“She was really mean to him when he came back at Sectionals. I don’t think she liked how he yelled at Q when she told him about the baby.”  
  
“Finally, something useful has managed to fall from your pathetic lips. This bit of information hadn’t reached me yet. You’re saying the miniature diva has a thing for the ladies?” She loosened the strings, letting a bit more free will in.  
  
“What we’re _saying_ is that Berry digs on Ms. Teen Statistic, not Tall, Dumb, and Dopey.”  
  
Sue just nodded, she had no problem with this turn of events. In fact, this was even better. Two birds, one stone. Take out the keystone of the glee club in the form of one Rachel Berry and gain suitable revenge upon Quinn Fabray for being so utterly disappointing. Outstanding.  
  
“Even better. I want you to go after the both of them. Shower them with that _special_ affection you’re both so very good at. Make them fall for you.” She smiled slyly, pumping the weights, “Then, when they’re both completely enamored, crush them. Drop them like a piano from the top of the Empire State Building. Humiliated and embarrassed they’ll have no choice but to abandoned that pathetic club, and without his two co-captains, Schuester doesn’t stand a chance at Regionals.”  
  
Brittany looked so very confused that Sue loosened the reins for a moment to hear what was on her mind. “I don’t know if Q likes girls like that.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter. She’s pregnant, homeless, and alone. She’ll fall for any attention tossed her way like a starving mongrel on a soup bone. All you have to do is provide it.” Sue tossed them the hand weights with a confident smirk, releasing her control over them. “Get on it, ladies.”  
  
The two girls looked at each other, having barely caught the weights, suddenly finding themselves caught between their friends and their coach and not liking it one bit.  
  
*****  
  
It wasn’t as if they wanted to play the other two girls. But it was a direct order from Coach Sylvester and they were getting increasingly hard to completely resist. It had taken a lot of discussion - and plenty of extra explanations on Santana’s part - before they finally came to what they thought could be an acceptable alternative.  
  
They would fail.  
  
It wasn’t like they wouldn’t _try_. Of course, they would. Coach Sylvester would destroy them if they didn’t make every attempt to carry out her plans. But she hadn’t told them how they must achieve the goals she set, only that they had to achieve them. Her mistake. They were quite proud of their little plan for self-sabotage.  
  
The first thing they decided was that the first approach would be while all four - hunters and prey as Sylvester liked to put it - were together in the same room. This was important to later steps. Both Rachel and Quinn needed to be aware of the dance and who the players were in the game. It would give the other two girls a chance to gather their forces, marshal their defenses against anything the school’s two best temptresses could throw at them. And with Quinn in the game, there was the possibility that it would let them figure out that Sylvester was behind it more than the duo’s own inclinations.  
  
Next was the assignment of targets. This was more difficult as they had to maneuver themselves to pit their weaknesses against their opponents’ strengths, almost as foreign a technique as not double-teaming their designated prey. Not that they would double-team either Rachel or Quinn, that would either be too effective or too obviously an attempt to fail and neither option was acceptable.  
  
So it was decided. Quinn would be approached by the naive Brittany, pitting her blunt straightforwardness and simple wiles against the ex-cheerleader’s cunning mind and confidence. Santana would tackle Rachel, pouring her natural affinity for sexual aggression and need for achieving dominance in any situation situation directly against the diva’s self-confidence and refusal to back down.  
  
After the opening rounds were fired, it was up to each girl on her own to manipulate the field. And if by some bizarre stretch of fate and the imagination, they failed to succeed, well, that could be fun too, right? Plan made, they smiled, Santana flipping of the lights with the switch beside her bed, a low chuckle curling through the darkened room.  
  
*****  
  
The pair smirked at each other during Finn’s incredibly awkward strutting and posturing around the room like he thought he was some kind of rock star belting out _Hello, I Love You_. Watching that painful performance, they breathed yet another sigh of relief that he wasn’t their prey. Not only would it have been entirely too easy and, like, no challenge _at all_ to get him, but just going after someone that awkward would have been _embarrassing_.  
  
They waited until most of the club had departed before making their individual ways over to where Rachel and Quinn were preparing to leave. It wasn’t common knowledge, but a side benefit of being friends with the co-captains was being aware of the change in their living status. The duo were fully aware that Quinn had moved into Berry’s guest room and was car-pooling with the diva, even if they were trying to hide it by waiting until everyone else had left.  
  
*****  
  
“Say, Q?”  
  
The pregnant teen looked up from where she’d been shuffling through her music folder, “yes, Britt? Something I can help you with?”  
  
“I was just wondering, since, you know, you’re not with Finn anymore...” Brittany smiled brightly, tugging at the bottom of her cheerleading top.  
  
Quinn just raised a brow, “no, I won’t be upset if you kiss him for your list. As you said, we’re not together.”  
  
“No! Ew. He looks like a big baby. Besides, I totally kissed him last year.” She looked confused for a moment, thinking about it, “he really wasn’t very good.”  
  
“No kidding.” Quinn wasn’t really listening any more, her attention more on the scene going on across the room, Santana backing Rachel up against the wall.  
  
“But that wasn’t what I wanted to ask. What was it? Oh!” She smiled again, “Do you want to make out?”  
  
“Hmm?” Quinn was staring at the two by the wall with narrowed eyes and thinned lips - positive that Santana was up to something - when Brittany’s words sank in, making her whip her head around, “wait - what!?”  
  
“We should make out! You’re not with Finn anymore and,” Brittany’s smile turned seductive as she reached out and ran a lazy finger along the side of the other blonde’s wide-eyed face, “I would _love_ to check you off my list.”  
  
“B, I’m, um, _flattered_ , really, but I’m not... I mean, you’ve never asked me before?”  
  
Brittany just shrugged, “I always thought you were, like, capital ‘S’ straight cause you always got mad at me and San kissing and stuff, but I’ve seen you checking out Rachel lately, so that can’t be really true, right? Besides, San’s into Rachel right now, and that’s, like, _super_ hot.”  
  
“Santana is _not_ into Rachel, Britt.” The possibility never even crossed her mind, though what was going on against the wall was a bit concerning, “And I’m sorry, but while the offer is flattering and all...”  
  
“Oh, well, okay then. But, Q, remember,” the lanky dancer paused turning away to run a hand down her side, “you ever want to get with this, you just let me know? It’ll be hot.”  
  
And, with a final lick of her lips and swirl of her Cheerios’s skirt, the tall blonde was gone, leaving Quinn far more confused that she had been five minutes earlier.  
  
*****  
  
“Berry.”  
  
“Santana.” Rachel barely acknowledged the darker girl before she found her invading her space, backing her towards the wall. “Wha- ?”  
  
Santana only smirked, trailing her fingers down the smaller girl’s shoulder and arm, propping herself up with one arm against the wall, hand just to the side of Rachel’s head. “You and me? We gotz to be talking.”  
  
“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about, Santana.” The smaller girl frowned in confusion, but was thoroughly boxed in by the taller girl unless she wished to hurt her - and things weren’t quite that bad yet. “This is _highly_ inappropriate behavior.”  
  
“Admit it, you love it. I’ve seen you lookin', Berry, and I gotta say, I approve. You and me be all kinds of hot up in here.” She leaned forward, her lips curled into a knowing smirk a scarce inch from the smaller girl’s, “I bet you’re hiding one _hell_ of a smoking hot body under all this argyle.”  
  
She drew her finger down the front of Rachel’s sweater, making a point to brush her knuckles against the side of the girl’s breasts as she did. Her eyes stayed on Rachel’s, noticing the swift glance to the side to where she knew Brittany was propositioning the ex-cheerleader. It only made her smile a little wider confirming the midget’s fixation on the mom-to-be.  
  
“You know, she’ll never go for you, right?”  
  
Rachel frowned, her attention back on the cheerleader in front of her, “what are you talking about?”  
  
“Quinn.” She rolled her eyes as the diva opened her mouth to try and protest, “zip it, Tiny. You and I both know you got the hots for the walking advertisement for condoms and birth control. Don’t bother trying to deny it cause that shit’s pathetic as hell. She ain’t never gonna go for you, Mighty Mouse, so just give it up and go for a sure thing.”  
  
“And I suppose that would be _you_?”  
  
“You see any other hot as hell Latinas lusting after your fine ass? Cause seriously? Ain’t no one in this school better step to my game. I will seriously cut on a bitch iffin they do.”  
  
Rachel smiled tightly, pushing at the girl’s arm and ducking under, “Thank you for the offer, Santana, but I believe I’ll have to decline. I am certain I do not feel the urge to ‘get with’ anyone who feels so compelled to speak in such an absurd manner. Now, if you do not mind, I must be going.”  
  
Before she got more than a couple paces away, Santana’s hand caught her wrist. “Look, Berry, we didn’t get off to the right start. I’m sorry for that and shit, but I’m not lying about Quinn. She’ll let you down. She gets scared and she runs, it’s what she does.”  
  
The diva quietly twisted her wrist from the taller girl’s loose grasp, “Thank you for the warning, Santana. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.”  
  
“Don’t forget, okay? Things don’t work out with Q,” Santana risked a glance at Quinn, noticing the dark glare her former captain was shooting her way, “give me a shout, kay? Cause I be lovin to get all up in them tiny skirts of yours and giving that sexy ass of yours a test run.”  
  
And then she was gone, out the door with her blonde best friend, leaving Rachel and Quinn to stare confusedly at each other from across the room.  
  
What was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn't actually complete. This is what I have so far but I have major writer's block on how to get past the jump past the mid season break.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment with thoughts on this story.


End file.
